


Earning Your Place

by spiritsl



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-23 06:51:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2538302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritsl/pseuds/spiritsl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoiled from a life of luxury, a high elf finds herself thrown into the harshness of Skyrim. Will she put aside her selfish nature and prosper? Or will she be her own undoing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"By the Eight, this isn't right!"

Elanin's voice echoed in the vast chamber if the White Gold Tower, but the amplified effect did nothing to sway the opinion of the assembled council members.

"The law is very clear on such matters, Miss Tiani." The head council member, an Imperial, responded calmly in spite of her outburst. "As a woman and the youngest, you are not eligible to inherit any of your fathers wealth or property. It is Imperial custom-"

"My father was a High Elf, born and raised on the Summer Set Isle! It is our belief that-"

"But you are not on the Summerset Isle, now are you, Miss?" One of the lesser members of the council sneered, leaning forward in his gilded chair. "If your father wanted you to be the sole beneficiary of his will, he should have remained where High Elf influence was dominant." A faint cough, amplified by the dome shaped ceiling, stopped the man and drained the color from his face. The Thalmor guards, each in glittering elven armor, stood in pairs alongside every door. While they gave no outward indication of emotion, their glittering eyes all now focused on the man in question.

"What he means..." Another council member stepped in, coming to the rescue of the others. "Is that, in spite of your upbringing, it is the law of the Empire, and therefore something that is out of our hands. Regardless of our current diplomatic relations." It was a poor apology at best, but the bristling guards settled none the less, and a collective sigh of relief was let out by all save for Elanin, who still trembled with rage.

"A messenger has already been sent to Anvil to inform your brother of the turn of events." The head council member said, bringing back the discussion back on topic and sounding rather bored with it. "He will likely return within the week, and when he does, you may speak with him on the matter of a stipend."

"My older brother is a chambermaid chasing spendthrift!" Elanin roared, knowing full well that she was making a scene. "Within a month he will have spent every Septim of my fathers wealth! What's worse, you know full and well he will toss me on the streets before the sun sets on his return!"

"You forget your place, woman!" The burliest council member, a battle scarred veteran snapped. "You have no right to question the authority of your brother or this council. In fact..." He turned to the head council member, his tone scathing and haughty. "Why we bothered to even hear this wench and her petty concerns is beyond me. Especially considering the many more pressing matters this council should be attending to."

"Petty concerns?" Elanin repeated, her voice cracking in her fury. Magic crackled about her clenched fists, though she kept a tight lid on the power pulsing through her magic infused blood. "This is my life you boar headed Imperials are tossing aside! Not to mention a million septims of inheritance that you're handing to a brainless louse solely because he was fortunate enough to be born male!"

"Enough! You're outburst does not help your case, Miss Tiani." The head council member snapped, raising his voice in a rare display of frustration. "If anything, it only proves that you are incapable of handling the pressures of such an inheritance."

"I-" Elanin attempted to jump back in to the argument, but the banging of the dragon headed gavel stopped her short.

"The Council has reached a unanimous decision. You, Elanin Tiani, are not eligible to inherit your fathers wealth or estate. As such, said inheritance shall instead be bestowed upon your elder brother, regardless of stipulations written in the will, which is henceforth declared null. This council is adjourned." Without further word, the council members stood, chairs skidding on the stone floor in their haste. Whispering amongst themselves, the old men quickly retreated back to the main chamber, none bothering to look back at Elanin as they did so. The door creaked on it's ancient hinges behind them as it slid shut, banging under it's own weight and rattling until it settled to silence once more.

Elanin was left alone to fume in silent rage and frustration. Was that it then? Twenty years into her several century lifespan, and everything was already crashing down? It wasn't fair, above all things, nor was it right. She was a brilliant example of the superiority of the High Elf race, she deserved nothing but the best, and she gave nothing but perfection. Already she was a master of the Arcane Arts and a brilliant sword fighter, all due to natural prowess and the best training gold could buy. But without wealth, how far would any of that take her in a land ruled by men? With difficulty brought by frustration, her clever mind struggled to find a solution, though nothing came, even as she began to pace subconsciously toward the nearest door.

Passing through the ornate and massive doorway, her eyes wandered over the Thalmor guards flanking the doorway. Though they were as still as statues, she could feel their eyes boring into her. They were scorning her. A high elf, beaten by the customs of an inferior people, it was as disgraceful to them as it was her.

Their haughtiness only fed her anger, even if she would have done the same of the roles were reversed. How was it her fault that her people still allowed the Imperials to keep their backward tradition of male dominance? Why did they limit themselves to mere embassies and ambassadors, forcing high elven women like herself to deal with their oppressive laws? If anything, why had her father needed to die? He had been old, but his health had been strong, and for him to fall ill and die within a week was something she had not expected or prepared for. If she'd had time, she would have had him moved back to the Sumerset Isle, where his will would have been legitimate and her claim to his wealth recognized.

But fate had already dealt that hand, and it had turned out poorly for her. All the better for her brother Calcemo, of course. How ironic was it that her father had sent him to Anvil in the hopes of teaching him about frugality, and yet now he was to inherit everything for nothing? Now he had everything, and she had nothing, not even the hope of a future...

And then realization hit like a bolt of electricity, stopping her rigid in her tracks.

She did have a chance, a chance in the form of a single other living relative. An uncle, a brother of her long deceased mother who had gone north to Skyrim many years before she had been born. From what little correspondence they had received (the last letter had been sent some years ago) he was doing well, but was without heirs and had hoped to arrange a contract of sorts. Her father had denied, mostly due to the fact that such a transition would have required direct contact, and neither party had been willing to make the several week trek over the Jerral mountains.

But if that offer still stood...

I shall speak to my brother on his return, and gain the funds to travel such a distance. Elanin told herself, a plan already forming in her clever mind. He would much rather just hand over a purse of septims than deal with any resistance to his claim. With a renewed vigor, she strode through the halls of the White Gold Tower like the noble that she was. A challenge lay before her, one that threatened both her standing and her life, and she would face it as such.

For she was not just a noble, she was a survivor.

Five weeks.

Five weeks of exhausting travel, five weeks of hunger, five weeks of struggle.

And she was almost there.

At long last, she was nearing the end of the Jerral mountains, and the sky scraping peaks were beginning to lower. The cold was lessening, and she found herself walking steadily downward rather than eternally upward. Even trees were once more becoming a common sight, and her current path was surrounded by them on both sides, thick hardy stems clinging to the snowy stones and blocking her view of the lower side of the mountain. It was the first positive sign she'd had in weeks, and Elanin was taking all of it in. The tattered silken robes about her shoulders and her gaunt features were testament of her ordeal, but her eyes glowed with just as much determination as they had on the day she had started off, though her coin purse was notably lighter.

I should still have enough to purchase passage to Solitude, I doubt these barbarians charge much for anything... It was very unlikely that she would be journeying for more than another two days, though the dimming light likely meant that there would not be much more travel time today.

"To think I'm so close..." She said aloud, as she often did to break the dead silence of the mountains. There was no response save for the chilling breeze through the trees and stone, but that was all she had come to expect. Being the quick learner that she was, Elanin had begun to learn the ways of the mountain, particularly the noises and what they entailed. The rumbling of an avalanche, the groaning of a loose ledge, and the crumbling of-

Clack! Clang! Bang!

Rock slide! The loud clangs were unmistakable, and she immediately whipped her head around to determine the source. While the echoing caused by the natural curve of the mountain made it difficult, her well attuned ears quickly picked up that the noise was coming from just a bit down the slope. Her panic subsiding, Elanin was able to make out the peculiar metallic ring to the sound. A moment later she came to another realization, those weren't rocks clanging, those were weapons! There was a battle! Knowing full well she was not physically prepared for battle, Elanin took care to try and find the specific source.

Could it be further down the path? It sounds close... Pointed ears straining as she took steady steps forward, she was able to get a rough idea of the exact location of the skirmish, as well as how many combatants were involved. Quite a few well armed soldiers by the sound of the battle, not common bandits raiding a caravan then. Was Skyrim truly in such turmoil that it was spilling over to the borders?

A gap in the trees and rocky outcroppings created by a recent mudslide allowed Elanin to peak down the mountain to gain a better view. The muddy slope was steep, but not too long, and the at the bottom she could clearly see the fray. Squinting, Elanin tried to determine who was fighting. Were those Stormcloaks? Their uniform seemed to match descriptions, but it was hard to tell with the dimming light. Driven by curiosity, Elanin leaned forward, gripping a thick bush for support. Those were indeed Imperial guards, Stormcloaks as well. Why would they be-

The thought was never finished, as her support snapped and sent her tumbling down the slope.

With a scream, Elanin hit the mud, sliding and falling end over end in a display that would have been comical had it not been potentially fatal. Stones and sticks bumped and battered her body as she fell, and it did not take long for numerous cuts and bruises to open up on her flesh. The bone jarring tumble ended as she hit the bottom, right into the middle of the fray. Head spinning, Elanin was not even able to make sense of the chaos around her, head lolling as she held herself up on her hands and knees. The instinct to survive took over faster than any willpower on her part.

Fumbling, she forced herself to stand, still not gaining any attention from the battling forces that were now on every side. The chaos spun around her, disorienting her further as she stumbled to a shambling run. The clangs of battle sounded around her, though the din was lessening as one side began forcing the other into submission. The fuss was so concentrated she might have been able to make a clean run for it...

Had she not run right into an armored Imperial Officer.

The soldier stumbled from the hit, but Elanin was sent sprawling, staring up with horror at the soldier. Regaining coherent thought through fear, she held up her mud streaked hands in defense as he raised his blade.

"No! Please! I'm innoce-"

But the flat of his blade struck her skull, and she knew no more.


	2. Chapter 2

The plodding of hairy hooves over dirty, hard packed snow was like a rhythmic drumbeat through the wintery forests of southern Skyrim. The rumbling of the weather beaten cart as it moved over uneven terrain sounded in time to it's unsteady rocking, the aged wood creaking and groaning in protest to the constant motion. An icy wind eased it's way through the rocky slopes, sending flurries of snow airborne once more to dance around the convoy of wagons.

Enalin woke to take it all in with blurry eyes and muffled hearing, her skull pounding on the right side. Her eyes, caked over with a thin layer of grime from an extended period of unconsciousness, took notable effort to keep open. Her tan skin, unused to such weather, was riddled with goose bumps, though she didn't have the energy to shiver. A small groan of discomfort escaped her throat, barely audible to most of the passengers who she could sense in the wagon around her, but just loud enough to be heard by the one across from her.

"Hey, you. You're finally awake." a heavy nordic accent drove her to lift her head, aching though it was. The speaker was a nord, through and through, she could tell by looks alone. Blond, dirty hair hung in collapsed braids about his shoulders, and his eyes were a fairer shade of blue than she had ever seen down south. The mans arms were thick and sturdy from the life of work and toil his homeland commanded, and his skin had a natural roughness to it. All in all, his filthy appearance disgusted her. "You were trying to cross the border, right?"

"Border?" Elanin repeated, her eyes narrowing as she struggled to get a hold on the situation. What was this barbarian rambling about? All she remembered was traveling through the mountains, going along the same as she had for weeks before...

And then she remembered it all: the battle, the soldier, the blow to her skull... Oh gods, her head... The memory itself turned the dull throb into a fiery agony, and she instinctively moved a hand up to the wound.

Only to find her wrists were bound tight.

Confused and still somewhat disoriented, she looked down with animalistic alarm. Thick, rough ropes bound her delicate wrists together in her lap. With growing panic, she noticed that her tattered robes were gone, replaced instead by dirty rags of stitched together fabric. Even her shoes were gone, replaced by tattered footwraps. Nose crinkling in disgust, she attempted to stem her own revulsion at her appearance.

"By the Eight, what happened? Where am I?" She questioned, and was insulted as the Nord only smiled in response.

"Imperial must have hit you pretty hard elf. You were trying to cross the border, right?" He asked, and Elanin only nodded in response, eager for any kind of clarification. "You walked right into an Imperial ambush. Same as us, and that thief over there." The Nord nodded his head to the passenger beside him, and Elanin felt a fresh wave of revulsion at the sight. A notably scrawnier nord, wearing rags like her own, sat in the spot beside the other. He appeared to be fairly beaten down, but still in better condition than herself. The hardiness of the nords was more than a rumor then.

"Damn you Stormcloaks! Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy..." the man spat, lip curling in obvious hatred for his passenger and kinsman. "If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to

Hammerfell!" He turned to face her, and she reviled at the sight of his blackened teeth. "You there, you and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants." The blond nord appeared undisturbed by the thief's words, answering cooly but sharply.

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." his added emphasis on the last word stung the man into silence.

"But why am I here? I am a noble and an innocent, I have done nothing wrong!" Elanin pleaded, eyes darting about for some kind of authority figure or the like. Unmoved by her plight, the blond Nord only shrugged in response.

"They probably assumed you were with us or the thief. Can't imagine Imperials would show any mercy-"

"Shut up back there!" The imperial driver barked. The order was met with a scoff from the horse thief, who turned to the prisoner opposite him.

"What's wrong with him, huh?"

"Watch your tongue!" The blond nord growled, his body tensing and his bound hands clenching into fists. "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true high king!" Enalin tensed at the revelation of the mans name, snapping her head to look at him in spite of her necks protests against the movement. The prisoner beside her was every bit a man of power and authority. Steely eyes gazed at each of them in a powerful and encompassing gaze, his powerful form radiating confidence and strength. His shoulders still wore the rather tattered remains of a once regal fur cape, and, strangely enough, a rag was tied around his mouth. Ulfric? The murderer of the high king? It couldn't be... The horse thief shared her surprise, voicing his shock immediately afterwards.

"Ulfric? The Jarl of WindHelm? You're the leader of the rebellion!" His uneducated mind mulled over the information for a moment, trying to decide what implications this might have on him. Horror crossed his dirt covered features as he finally realized what the others passengers already had. "But if they've captured you, then... Oh gods, where are they taking us?"

"I don't know where we're going..." the blond nord said, his voice heavy with bitter acceptance of the inevitable. "But Sovengarde awaits..." Enalin felt a chill of instinctive fear settle in her gut, not needing a thorough understanding of nordic religion to know what he meant. She didn't want to die! Not now, and not like this! A high elf deserved to die with dignity, not clad in rags and surrounded by Nordic savages! She needed to find someone, to explain what had happened. Surely all of her hard work couldn't end here!

"No! This isn't happening! This can't be happening!" The thief cried to no one, as no one bothered to care.

"Hey...What village are you from, horse thief?" The blond Nord asked suddenly, shattering the tense silence that had befallen their miserable little group.

"Why do you care?" The thief grumbled back, glaring daggers at the man. Elanin only listened, hoping for some comfort in the mans words.

"A nords last thoughts, should be of home." He reminded simply, likely repeating the phrase from a simple lesson learned during boyhood. The thief went silent before responding rather quietly, his voice tinged with bitter nostalgia.

"Rorikstead... I'm, I'm from Rorikstead..." The statement brought Elanin back to her own past, the fond and now long gone memories of her home in the Imperial city flooding back in a rush. She thought of the better days, when father was alive and her worries were few. To think it was not so long ago...

"General Tulius sir! The headsman is waiting!" The bark from the imperial officer snapped her back to the present.

"Good. Let's get this over with!" An authoritative voice called back, and she turned her head to see that they had arrived at a small village, and a gate built into an aging stone wall was opened for them. The wagon before them had just begun to enter as the thief began to moan once more.

"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh... Divines, please help me!" If the gods heard his plea, they certainly did not answer. Not even a breeze resisted them as they passed through the gate and into the village, a rather tiny one by the looks of it. All around them, villagers went about their daily business, likely enjoying the pleasant weather that accompanied their work.

It was not the kind of place Elanin had pictured herself dying. She had always imagined an elegant death of old age in a warm bed, surrounded by people and relatives of worth. To die here, clad in rags and surrounded by rabble, and to serve as nothing more than a show of sick entertainment... The very though made her grow physically ill. Her wide eyes looked all about, at the mountains that scraped the sky on all sides, to the villagers that gawked on every side, looking at her as if she was nothing but an animal.

"Look at him, General Tullius, the military governor! And looks like the Thalmor are with him." The nord across from her spat, his fair eyes following the ornately armored man on horseback who had since veered off from the main group. Elanin watched him as well, taking a gasp of surprise as she saw that he was speaking to a group of... elves. The Thalmor! Three of them, a hooded justicar on horseback, flanked by two guards in glittering elven armor, all perfect examples of the magnificence of their race. A part of her thought to call out to them, surely they would realize the folly in her being here? A high elf such as herself had no place among these nords, after all.

"Damn elves, I bet they had something to do with this." The color drained from her face at the thought. The memory of the ambush was vague, but was it possible that her own kind had staged the attack? The irony was as terrifying as the implications. Would they think her guilty of associating with theses... vandals? So she was not only doomed to die amongst them, but as one of them? Her insides churned with terror and revulsion at the thought. Her inner turmoil was interrupted as the blond nord spoke once more, his voice heavy with nostalgia and sadness.

"This is Helgen, I used to be sweet on a girl from here... Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in..." He shook his head, fair blue eyes staring off into the depths of the pale sky. "It's funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

"Who are they daddy? Where are they going?" She heard a little boy behind her ask.

"You need to go inside, little cub." A mans voice responded. The child made an effort to argue, but gave in with little fuss, and she heard the door shut behind her. They were rounding a kind of tower now, and she could see that the wagon before them had already stopped in an open area that likely made up the town square. She heard the imperial soldier stop the horse, and the sudden lack of motion made the thief start up once more.

"W-why are we stopping?" He stuttered, small eyes darting about like a cornered animal.

"Why do you think?" The blond nord responded bitterly but calmly. "End of the line." At a bark from one of the soldiers, the others in the cart stood with her, and she followed mechanically.

"No! Wait! We're not rebels!" The thief blubbered, trying desperately to gain the attention of one of the soldiers. He jumped down from the wagon, and Elanin followed, feeling suddenly detached from everything. She'd heard of the multiple stages that one went through before death, ending in acceptance, she had simply never expected to go through them herself.

"Face your death with some courage, thief." The blond nord chastised with little effort, suggesting he was now at the same emotional state as Elanin.

"You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake-!"

"Step toward the block when we call your name. One at a time." a broad shouldered Imperial Captain, the only female officer there, spoke with a heavy and desensitized tone. Elanin lifted her eyes, and could tell solely from the woman's body language that she had seen far more bloodshed than most.

"Empire loves their damned lists." The Nord beside her muttered, reawakening his emotions to voice his discontent.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of WindHelm." The nord beside the captain began, scribbling his quill over the parchment. Without a sound of complaint, the jarl stepped forward, walking unguided to his place beside the block. Elanin followed his movements, though his destination was obscured by the crowd at her left.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric." The nord beside her spoke proudly, bowing his head in reverence as the man passed.

"Ralof of Riverwood."

With equal calmness, the man beside her, who she now knew as Ralof, went to join his companions. He glared at each imperial as he passed, and Elanin swore some seemed to flinch under his gaze.

"Lokir of Rorikstead." Unlike his predecessors, the horse thief Lokir began to fidget, taking several quick steps up to the two imperials. The officer put a hand on the hilt of her sword.

"No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" He made a split second decision, and began to run, taking an awkward, stumbling gate thanks to his bonded hands. He moved with considerable speed, however, in spite of it, driven by fear and the instinct to survive.

"Halt!" The captain barked after him, though it had no effect.

"You're not gonna kill me!" The man taunted back, beginning to round the corner. With a signal and a command from the officer, the two soldiers who had been standing to the side drew their bows, letting fly two arrows. With expert precision, the shots thunked deep into the thief's back. With a strangled gasp, Lokir fell forward, lying motionless in the dirt where he fell in a growing pool of blood.

The sight woke Elanin from her haze, and all she could do was stare at the body. Never in her short life had she witnessed such violence, and it rocked her to her core. She could feel the animalistic urge to survive well within her as the officer turned back to them all.

"Anyone else feel like running?" She taunted, and Elanin swallowed to clear the lump from her throat. Stone cold silence greeted her, and the officer beside her returned to his task. His brow furrowed in confusion, and he looked directly at Elanin for the first time.

"Wait, you there. Step forward." Slightly taken aback, it took a moment for her to comply, taking a few shaky steps toward the armed officers. Her golden eyes warily took in both their swords, and the captain gripped the hilt if hers tightly when she caught get eye. She felt both of their eyes boring into her, and was reminded of the habit of nobles to size each other up upon meetings. Those encounters never ended in blood, though, not usually, at least. "Who are you?"

"Elanin Tiani, I'm-"

"You're not with the Thalmor Embassy, are you high elf? No, that can't be right..." He cut her off, scribbling some more information onto his parchment. The total brush off left her at a loss. Nobles were not used to being ignored, and a flush of indignation filled her, even in the face of death.

"I am a noble of house Tiani in the Imperial City." She asserted, golden eyes glittering with rage. "You have made a mistake-"

"And I'm the illegitimate daughter of the Emporer." The Captain scoffed, settling a firm hand around her swords hilt. "Keep that tongue still if you want to prolong what little of your life is left, elf." Elanin bit her lip to stifle a response, glaring at the woman with a feeling of hatred more intense than she had ever felt before.

"Captain. What should we do? She's not on the list." The other officer continued, and the captain snorted, crossing her arms across her shining steel chest plate.

"Forget the list, she goes to the block."

"By your orders, Captain." He turned back to her, half genuine sympathy in his eyes. "I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to the Summerset Isle." A part of Elanin wanted to say that she had never even been to Summerset Isle, but her common sense won out, and she remained silent. "Join the others, Prisoner." Doing as she was told, Elanin turned to the group, only taking half a step before the Imperial Captains boot in her lower back forced her forward. Gritting her teeth, Elanin took her spot, standing tall in spite of the humiliation. She took sudden note that all gathered seemed to be Stormcloak soldiers, and a ring of imperial guards and citizens watched on all sides.

"Ulfric Stormcloak." A man in ornate imperial armor spoke up, likely the General Tullius that Ralof had spoken of before. "Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a powe like the voice to murder his king and usurp his throne." The jarl growled from behind his covering, but could not put forth any more complex of an argument. Tullius's tone became sharp and accusing, and a few of the townspeople let out murmurs of agreement. "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace!"

As if nature herself approved, an unnatural wind blew through the town, carrying with it an unearthly echo. All present turned their heads upward, suggesting to Elanin that such a thing was not commonplace in Skyrim.

"What was that?" The imperial soldier who had been reading off names spoke up first, though the general was quick to reply, moving over beside the priest that stood off to the side.

"It's nothing. Carry on."

"Yes, General Tullius!" The Captain responded, turning to the priest with a nod. "Give then their last rites." The woman nodded, then lifted her hands to the sky, speaking with a voice that was both clear and beautiful.

"As we commend your souls to Atherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved-"

"For the love of Talos, shut up, and let's get this over with!" A soldier spoke up, marching to the blood stained block without fear. The priestess widened her eyes in surprise, but with a nod if consent from the captain, she relented.

"As you wish." The Stormcloak soldier, a nord at the ending days of his prime, sneered at the headsmen.

"Come on, I haven't got all morning!" Not to be outdone, the Captain forced the man to his knees before the block, driving her boot into his spine to force his neck onto the stained stone. Though Elanin could not see his face, she knew he was staring his killer in the eyes. "My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials..."

The executioner raised the exe.

"Can you say the same?"

With a sick, wet crack, the executioner connected his axe, and the mans severed head fell neatly into the basket below as blood gushed from the stump of his neck. With a snort of contempt and a kick from her boot, the Captain pushed the lifeless body aside, steam rising from the still warm blood as it pooled on the dirt. Elanin's jaw dropped in shock, her tan face going white with terror as her heart sprang into her throat. She had seen two men die in over the course of mere minutes, and her delicate upbringing had certainly not prepared her for the grim sight. Beside her, the other prisoners appeared less disturbed and more enraged at the sight.

"You Imperial bastards!" One woman snarled, and she was quickly retorted by a chorus of cheers from the villagers.

"Justice!"

"Death to the Stormcloaks!"

"As fearless in death, as he was in life..." Ralof said amidst the cheers, his head bowed in silent grieving.

"Next, the high elf!" the Captain barked, pointing a finger at Elanin. Her blood froze, but before she could move, the same echoing noise from before blared out around them, this time far louder than the last. All present turned their heads in every direction, trying to ascertain the source of the mysterious noise.

"There it is again, did you hear that?" One of the imperials remarked, but the Captain quickly silenced him from commenting further.

"I said, next prisoner..."

"To the block prisoner, nice and easy..." Her feet moved without protest to the command, and she could feel the haze of submission muting out her will to live. With hollow eyes, she looked each one of the soldiers in the eyes as she came to them, silently accusing each for her untimely death. She took in the sight of the body beside the block as she reached it, lying still in a pool of it's own blood. She had but a moment to look the executioner in the eyes, and was terrified at what she saw. He had the eyes of a man who was so desensitized to death he no longer cared about life, like a walking corpse. She suddenly felt the Captain force her to kneel, and the hardness of her boot shoving her head onto the still bloodied block. In spite of it all, she cringed with revulsion as the blood, still warm with life, matted her golden hair and stained her neck, it's irony scent filling her nostrils.

Tilting her neck the slightest bit, she stared at the executioner, watching as he lifted the axe, brought it behind his head to gather momentum. A sudden charge of fear pulsed through her, and she squeezed her eyes shut tight, not wanting to see the blow.

But it never came.

A loud, unearthly roar cut into the morning air, and she opened her eyes to see a dragon emerge from behind the side of the mountain that bordered the town.

"What in Oblivion is that?" She heard the General cry, and Elanin felt a sense of utter terror engulf the village.

"It's in the clouds!" One soldier cried, and she struggled to see from her limited vantage point as the creature momentarily left her field of view. It reentered with a literal boom, several tons of scaly muscle touching down on the tower that reared up above her. The shock wave shook the executioner to the ground, and his bloody axe clattered against the dirt.

"Dragon!" Someone behind her cried, and Elanin lifted her head off the block to stare in terror. With ruby eyes, the black scaled Titan looked the crowd over, it's bat like wings hanging down the sides of the tower. After a moment, the creature seemed to decide on it's plan of action, and opened it's tooth filled maw.

The stories and legends that Elanin had studied told that dragons breathed fire and ice, but what happened next was a thousand times more devastating. No fire or ice erupted from the creatures throat, but instead a bone rattling shout, so powerful as to knock any still standing off their feet. The clouds above immediately began to churn and boil, swirling together with an unnatural red glow, almost like fire. It then began to thunder, and chunks of flaming stone fell from the sky above, some the size of small boulders.

"Don't just stand there! Kill that thing!" Tullius ordered, and the scraping of unsheathing swords was heard all around. No sooner had he issued the order than the dragon shouted again, a crushing wall of force that threw back everyone in it's path and sent Elanin rolling backwards, her bound hands preventing her from stopping herself. Resting face down in the dirt, she heard the unending symphony of booms as the stones crashed into the earth, some colliding with houses to crunch through the once solid timbers. Though she couldn't see, she felt the rush of air as the beast took wing, letting out another ungodly roar as it rose.

"Guards! Get the townspeople-" General Tullius's command was drowned our by the chaos, and Elanin could no longer tell what was going on. The roar of noise around her made it impossible to think, let alone to move. A part of her told her to lie still, that playing dead was the only way to escape such a beast...

"Hey, high elf! Come on, the gods won't give us another chance!" A strong pair of hands grabbed her by the shoulders, and she was forced to her feet. She found herself facing Ralof, the soldier from before, though now his arms were free and he possessed an Imperial blade, as well as a fresh stain of blood across his armor. Instinct took over, and no words were needed as he began to run with Elanin following just behind. "This way!" He shouted, pointing to the tower on the far side of the square. His guidance was hardly necessary, and both ducked into the keep as a flaming stone the size of a child crashed to earth just behind them.

Panting, Elanin placed her hands on her knees as Ralof slammed the door behind them, muting the noise just the slightest. Two other Stormcloak soldiers lay bleeding on the stone floor. One of them, a young woman, was literally trying to hold her guts in through a gash on her midsection, blood gurgling from her throat. Gagging, Elanin turned away from the sight, seeing that Ralof had now begun to speak to another man... The Jarl! Ulfric had managed to secure a blade of his own, and was now free of his binds as well as his mouth gag.

"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?" Ralof asked, his voice slightly rough from so much exertion. With a voice as cool and hard as steel, the Jarl redponded.

"Legends don't burn down villages." A thundering roar shook the tower, and streams of dusted drifted down from the stones overhead. With a frown, Ulfric observed the trembling masonry, then he spoke with undeniable urgency. "We need to move, now!"

"Up through the tower!" Ralof decided, making his way to the stone stairs that encircled the towers inner walls. "Let's go! This way friend, move!" Needing no further convincing, Elanin made her way up the stairs, taking the lead by going up in two or three at a time with her long legs. They immediately came to the second "floor" of the tower, where a Stormcloak soldier was working furiously to clear fallen rubble from the next stairway.

"We just need to move some of this rubble!" She heard him cry as they reached the top, going just high enough to see him struggling with a boulder half his size. Before she or Ralof could make a move to aid the man, the wall to their right was bashed in, chunks of stone flying as the tower shook with enough force to nearly knock Elanin back down the stairs. The man who had been clearing rubble was thrown back to the center of the circular floor, his leg caught underneath a massive hunk of masonry. Dust and small pebbles fell from the curling above, some of which clattered on the nose of the dragon that had forced a part of it's great head into it's self created gap. It's ruby eyes came to rest solely on the trapped man, who screamed in terror as the beast opened it wicked maw.

Yol...Toor...Shul!

The alien words ripped from the creatures throat with a blast of flame, engulfing the trapped man and filling the small room with a heat so intense that Elanin and Ralof were forced to retreat a short way down the stairs. As soon as the flames dissipated, there was a rumble as the creature took flight, loud cracks ringing out as it flapped it's tremendous wings.

Ralof took the lead up, and was the first to take in the sight. The man had been reduced to nothing more than a blacked corpse that still sizzled from the heat, with a few tendrils of flame licking at what little purchase remained. They both quickly turned away, and Elanin felt bile rising in her throat at the scent of burnt flesh that suddenly filled her nostrils.

"See the inn on the other side?" Ralof said suddenly, putting a hand on get shoulder to turn her. Looking out the dragons self made window, she did indeed see the inn just below their vantage point, though a considerable chunk of it's roof had caved in, and fire was slowly spreading across the dry timbers. "Jump through the roof, and keep going!" Her eyes went wide, and she faced the man with a look of incredulousness.

"Have you gone mad? I'll never make it!" Bristling with impatience, Ralof took her bound hands, slicing with expert skill through the ropes.

"Relax, never saw an elf that couldn't make a jump this height, now go!" With that, he gave her a mild shove, and she half fell, half jumped out of the opening. She cleared the space after a moment of free fall, hitting the wooden floor with a clumsy roll, using her now free hands to keep herself steady. The impact knocked the wind out of her, but she suffered nothing worse than the pain of the initial landing. Gaining her footing uneasily, she coughed as she lifted her head into the gathering smoke, eyes watering as she quickly made her way across the floor. Broken and smoldering furniture lay strewn about the small second floor, but it took no time for her to see the only way down was through yet another hole on the far side of the inn. Jumping down, this time with greater ease thanks to the reduced height, she ran into the open.

"Haming, you need to get over here! Now!" She was confronted by the imperial officer that had been reading the list, struggling to coax a crying boy away from a dying man that was likely his father. The discussion had likely been going on for some time, as the boy relented at a few whispers from his father, letting go of the blood soaked man and running to the officer. The soldier guided the boy behind a house, where Elanin saw another man, this one rather old, was already waiting. "That a boy, you're doing great."

An earth shattering boom followed as the dragon touched down, crushing what little life remained in the dying man by impaling him on it's talons. The little boy let out a wail, burying his face into the older mans chest as he sobbed in grief. Elanin watched it all in numb shock, frozen until she heard the imperial cry out a warning.

"Gods, everyone get back!" With almost no time to react, Elanin crossed what little distance remained between herself and the other group, taking shelter behind a partly collapsed home as the dragon let forth another blast of fire. The flames licked around the corners of the wood, but the shelter held strong, and the creature eventually took wing once more.

"Still alive prisoner?" The soldier asked, keeping his eyes trained on the sky above. "Keep close to me if you want to stay that way." He turned back to the old man, who still held the trembling child close. "Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join the defense."

"Gods guide you, Hadvar." The man blessed, and Elanin wasted no time following the man she now knew as Hadvar. They quickly passed the mangled corpse of the boys father, a gaping hole was through his midsection from where the dragons talon had impaled him. Sightless eyes stared accusingly at the sky, and a great shadow momentarily eclipsed the sun. The dust beneath them began to swirl from the draft of the dragons wings as it dove close, and Elanin felt the wind from each wingbeat as it drew closer.

"Stay close to the wall!" Hadvar shouted, grabbing her and bringing her close to the wooden wall at their left. Her head jarred painfully against the stone, and she opened her eyes to see a man standing atop a short staircase before them, his bow drawn. The wall shook as the dragon landed, perching, quite literally, just above her head. Jaw dropping, she could only watch as it roasted the bow wielding man alive, transforming him into nothing more than a shriveled, blacked corpse. Oddly, the sight that had repulsed her before did nothing now.

"Quickly, follow me!" Hadvar shouted, recovering quickly with experience. Numbed with shock, she did as she was told, stumbling through the shattered remains of a home and emerging out onto the open street, where the few surviving men were waging a losing battle. One man lay on the dirt in a pool of his own blood, another tried hopelessly to stem the glow from a gash on his chest.

"The bleeding won't stop, the wounds too deep!" Age heard the man cry in desperation as they approached.

"Tell my family I fought bravely..." The dying man whispered, though none but Elanin seemed to hear as the battle waged on.

"Soldiers! Retreat into the keep! We're leaving" Tullius ordered, and the few men within earshot beat a hasty retreat to the main tower.

"It's you and me prisoner, stay close!" Hadvar shouted, taking the lead as the dragon swooped down once more, incinerating a line of guards. Charred and bloodied bodies lined their path, but Elanin kept her eyes forward, desensitized by her own need to survive. Passing through a stone archway, they all but ran into Ralof, who was now wielding an iron war axe and sporting several new blood stains. "Ralof!" Hadvar barked, screeching to a halt with Elanin at his side. "You damned traitor! Out of my way!"

"We're escaping, Hadvar. You're not stopping us this time." Ralof replied calmly, though he hefted his axe to show he was not afraid to test it.

"Fine! I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovengarde!"

With that, the two men each went a different way, both of them calling out for her to follow them.

Perhaps it was chance, perhaps it was fate, perhaps she just went for the one who seemed closest, but that split second decision determined the rest of her life.

Panting with exertion, she followed Ralof into the keep.


	3. Chapter 3

As soon as Ralof sealed the door, Elanin collapsed onto her hands and knees, relishing in the chance to finally catch her breath. A thin layer of sweat and ashy grime coated her entire body, but she did not notice or care in her current state. She was alive, in spite of everything, and all because of a dragon. None of it seemed remotely real or possible. Perhaps this was all a dream, even the journey, and she was still sleeping in her silken bed at the family estate...

"We'll meet again in Sovengarde, brother..."

A mournful whisper made her look up, and she saw Ralof stopped over a corpse. Still panting, she got to her feet, walking over as the Nord offered a prayer over his deceased comrade. Elanin stared in a disgusted awe at the corpse, her eyes fixed on the gash across the mans temple. Ralof looked up to acknowledge her presence, standing as he finished his prayers.

"Looks like we're the only ones who made it." He observed, still somewhat out of breath himself. "That thing was a dragon, no doubt."

"I take it they're not common in Skyrim?" Elanin quipped, naturally snarky attitude rising to the surface in her foul mood. Ralof found some amusement in the comment regardless, letting out a breathless laugh in spite of everything.

"Heh, not since a few thousand years ago, no. The stories say that they were meant to return at the end of time." He shuddered, though Elanin merely raised a brow at the Nordic superstition. "Regardless, we need to escape. You can take Gunjars gear, he won't be needing it anymore." Elanins eyes went wide at the mere suggestion, and her tone was heavy with disbelief.

"Taking gear? From a corpse?" Ralof shrugged.

"No shame in taking a fallen friends axe."

"I... If there is no other option..." Elanin said, shaking her head in disgust. Bending down by the corpse, she removed the mans armor, sliding off his boots as well. Her face flushed at the sight of his small clothes, and she turned away as soon as she had the armor in hand. "Do you mind?" She snapped, and Ralof was momentarily taken back by the order.

"Oh, of course..." He fumbled, turning his back to her so she could change. Not trysting the man, she kept a close eye on him as she removed the scratchy top, sliding on the sweaty smelling armor. It fit well enough, though it was a little baggy on her thin elven frame, and the boots were notably loose. Look at yourself Elanin, a high elf, clad in the armor of a barbarian... How far you've fallen.

"I won't be needing the axe." She declared, leaving it where it had fallen. Ralof turned at the statement, a look of puzzlement on his features. Holding up her hands, Elanin generated a quick burst of flame to demonstrate her skills. "I am trained in both swordplay and magic, I need only what I am accustomed to." Ralof seemed genuinely impressed at the display.

"You have experience then?"

"Training, the best gold can buy." Elanin proudly declared, though Ralof only chuckled.

"An aristocrat then? I had you figured for one, elf." Her jaw went slack at the brush off, but he paid her no mind, going over to test one of the iron doors. "Now then, let's see if we can find a way out of here..." Clenching the handle, he gave the door a shake, but it held fast and strong. Muttering a curse, he turned and went to the other door, testing it's hold and finding it to be equally solid. "Damn, both locked, let's see if there's a key-"

"Get that gate open soldier!"

"Imperials!" Ralof hissed, hugging the wall beside the door and gesturing for Elanin to do the same. She did as she was bid, but did not fully understand why such action was needed. As soon as Ralof hefted his axe, however, she understood. "Give them a blast of your magic when I give the command... " Ralof whispered just loud enough for her to hear, the sound of the imperials footsteps growing louder with their approach. "I'll take care of the rest."

"What? But I've never-"

"You want to end up back on that chopping block?" Ralof hushed, not being able or needing to continue as the Imperials reached the door. A clanking from the locking mechanization slid the door upwards, and only a mere moment passed before Ralof gave a stiff nod to signal. Biting her lip, Elanin summoned her magic, jumping out into the door frame and right into the path of the two imperials. The two, a captain and a soldier, froze in shock just long enough for Elanin to catch their expressions before she let loose a blast of flame.

The pair screamed as the fire engulfed their faces, catching on the fabrics of their armor and burning only as magical fire could. True to his word, Ralof charged past her, lifting his axe and letting out a battle cry as he cut down the soldier with a crushing blow to the armor gap in his neck. The man went down, but did not die, letting out gurgling cries of agony. The officer made an attempt to resist in spite of her burns, but was not fast enough. Ralof buried his axe into her unprotected forehead, digging the weapon deep into her brain. Like a doll, she went limp, sightless eyes rolling back as she fell to the floor. With one last swift movement, Ralof finished the dying man, driving his whetted axe into the back of the mans exposed neck and severing his spinal cord. Catching his breath, Ralof looked back up at her, his face and chest spattered with blood.

"That's that..." He said, casually wiping away the blood on one of the corpses. "Now let's see if one of them has a key..." Elanin watched dumbly as he rifled through the bag of the officer, still over whelmed at what she had just witnessed. Where did a man learn to kill like that? Without hesitation or remorse, without a care? It was unnatural.

"Ah! Here we are!" He cried with satisfaction, producing a black iron key. He made a move to stand, but stopped midway, pulling the sword from the officers sheath. Standing, he tossed it to Elanin, who caught it with ease in spite of her shock. "You said you had training with swordplay, right? You'll need it." Without another word, he went back to the opposite door, fitting in the key and opening it. "Come on, that dragons still out there. We need to find a way out of here." Elanin followed, sword in hand, going through the door just as the tower gave a rumble in time to a muted roar.

"Would you mind telling me where we'll be heading after all of this?" She questioned, picking her way down an old and decrepit staircase.

"I'm afraid I can't, not until we're clear of this mess." Ralof responded, flashing a grin over his shoulder. "If I die before we get out of here, I don't want you making trouble for my friends. I'm afraid I just don't trust you yet, elf." Elanin muttered a "likewise" underneath her breath.

"So it's within my best interests to keep you alive?"

"Pretty much."

Elanin scoffed, but inwardly admitted her surprise at the Nords surprising intellect. Stepping onto the lower level, they made to turn down the hall, though they had not gone two steps before another rumble sounded from the tower. Unlike the last, this one simply did not die down, and instead turned into a crackling as heaps of dust fell from the ceiling.

"Get back!" Ralof screamed, grabbing her arm and pulling her back just as the ceiling caved in. Chunks of masonry larger than she was rained down, crashing to the floor and sending up blinding clouds of dust. The collapse lasted but a moment, and left a pile of debris that reached up to the ceiling. Small pebbled clattered down as the last of the dust settled, and they were both left staring at a now impassable tunnel.

"Damn..." Ralof observed, testing one of the stone chunks and finding it to be stuck tight. "Guess we won't be going that way. Let's try that side passage." Following his lead, Elanin opened the door to their left, finding it to be open. With Ralof just behind, she stepped inside, and her senses were almost overwhelmed by the aromas of countless herbs and potions. A storeroom, freshly stocked by the looks of the dangling rabbit and thrush carcasses. The mere sight drew a rumble from her stomach, and she was reminded that she didn't even know the last time she had eaten.

Thoughts of food, however, were immediately pushed to the back of her mind when she caught sight of another pair of Imperial soldiers, and they caught sight of her.

"Prisoners!" One shouted, and they both drew their swords. Pushing her aside, Ralof took out his axe, charging ahead and locking weapons with the first officer. The other went right past him and straight for Elanin, his sword drawn and his shield up in defense. Though her heart hammered, Elanin kept herself calm, going back to her years of training and taking a defensive stance. As fluid as water, she parried the mans sweeping blow, using his momentum against him and sidestepping his charge. Turning on his heels, the man snarled with rage, thrusting his sword at her abdomen for a killing blow.

Elanin reacted on instinct, having practiced for such a move many times before. Timing it perfectly, she blocked the hit, locking their swords and sending his flying with a simple flick of her wrist. Not pausing, she slashed the blade across his throat, sending forth a spurting fountain of blood that drenched her hands. The spattering of the hot blood across her front snapped her back to reality, and she could only watch as the man clutched his gushing throat, making a sound like screaming underwater. The life faded from his eyes, and he slumped into the pool of blood on the floor.

My first kill... Elanin told herself with horror, looking down at the blood glistening on her hands. The liquid had lost it's warmth, and now only chilled her skin and soul.

"Not bad, elf. Didn't think you had it in you." Ralof complimented, standing over the equally bloodied officer. "It will get easier with time, trust me." Elanin only stood silently over the corpse, barely registering that he was there. Used to such reactions from unseasoned recruits, Ralof knew it would be best just to get her moving again. Giving her arm a small tug, he spoke in an encouraging tone. "This looks like a storeroom. Let's see if there aren't any potions or supplies." Unable to think, she only nodded dumbly, allowing herself to be led over to the barrels. Popping off the lids of the barrels, they rifled through, though most were empty save for one.

"Health potions." Elanin recognized, reaching down an pulling up the three tiny ruby bottles. They were minor potions, but she could still feel the restorative magic pulsing within. A magic and stamina potion were within as well, and they were all put in a small leather pouch found by Ralof.

"We'll be needing all of these, but let's see if we can't find any more." Leaving the bodies behind, they moved farther into the storeroom, finding it to have mostly been picked clean save for a few more potions. Some bread still cooking near the hearth was quickly devoured by them both, but Elanin found that it only amplified her hunger rather than satisfying it. "There'll be some vittles waiting for us once we get out of here." Ralof assured, just as much to himself as Elanin. They left the storeroom and entered another winding hallway, going down the stairs for a short while before even further sounds of combat echoed from farther in.

"Sounds like battle, let's go!" Ralof declared, charging down the stairs without any further thought or hesitation. Elanin followed after, though she kept a ways behind, not wanting to have to add another to her list of lives taken.

The stairs led them right into the heart of the fray. Two Stormcloaks were locked in combat with two imperials, both sides appearing evenly matched as they clashed in the tight confines of the stone room. Ralof wasted no time attacking the nearest imperial, a burly man wielding a hefty axe, double teaming him with the aid of the other male Stormcloak. The other Imperial, a Mage, was locked in tense combat with the female Stormcloak, keeping her at bay with bursts of electricity. In spite of everything, Elanin scoffed at his sloppy and unprofessional technique. His bolts were clumsy and flitted quickly after firing, doing little more than singeing his attacker. Clearly, the man had never seen a day of proper instruction. More out of her natural desire to show up than to protect the struggling soldier, Elanin began to well up a substantial amount of mana.

Muttering an incantation under her breath, she formed the raw magic into crackling electricity, and the air around her smelled strongly of ozone. She then balled up the resulting force, throwing it forward in a brilliant arc of lighting that shot over the heads of the dueling combatants and struck the petty Mage square in the chest. He was thrown back into one of the cages, slamming against the steel doors and spasming violently as he fell. The man quivered until at last he lay still, smoldering and smoking in his charred armor. The nord he'd been fighting turned with shock to the source of the lighting, staring open mouthed at the now panting Elanin, who had used a significant amount of her mana to fuel the attack. Just then, Ralof and the other Stormcloak finished cutting down the other Imperial, and Ralof was quick to get introductions out of the way.

"You two all right?" The female Nord, wielding an iron blade that would have been to heavy for most men to wield, responded to the question with a sharp one of her own.

"By Talos Ralof, a high elf? And a Mage to boot? You really that desperate for back up you'd risk a knife in the back?" She growled in a thick accent, glaring hotly at Elanin.

"Relax Reyda..." Ralof assured, lifting Elanins blood stained sword as evidence. "She's as much a rebel as you and I. Killed an imperial right im front of me. And she saved your sorry hide, didn't she?" Elanin snapped her hand down from Ralofs grasp.

"I am no rebel Nord, and you would do well to remember it." Ralof merely shrugged, looking back to his comrades.

"She's an ally for now, at the very least." Reyda let out an aggressive "humph", but said no more on the matter. His tone became more serious, and he addressed both of them with a tone of restrained hopefulness. "Have either of you seen Ulfric? We haven't come across any sign of him."

"Not since the dragon attack. It's likely he found another route." The other Stormcloak, a burly looking dark haired Nord spoke up. "We were finding our way through the keep when we ran into this lot." He shook his head in disgust, looking about the room with restrained malice. "And they call us savages..." The comment drove Elanin to take a look around, and she was mortified by what she saw. Every inch of the floor was coated in blood, and spatterings of stains both old and new decorated the walls. Chains, rusted with age and use, dangled from the ceiling in tangled clumps, swinging in just the faintest breeze that flowed through the rooms. Twisted instruments, scattered by the earlier fray, lay gleaming on the floor amongst blood they had likely helped spill. To complete the image, a grimy skeleton dangled from bonds on the wall, and a fresh corpse lay curled in the corner of one of the cages. A sickly sweet odor hung over it all, and Elanin felt her eyes watering.

A torture chamber. An Imperial torture chamber. By all the gods...

"You two had best come with us." Ralof ordered, likely finishing up a conversation that she had heard none of. "We can better face the remaining resistance together." The two consented, but Ralof stopped to take note of one final thing. "First, let me take a look in that cage..." He looked over at the corpse Elanin had previously taken note of. "Not a Stormcloak, that's for sure. Poor sod was probably just a rebel sympathizer. Regardless, he won't be needing that gold any more." Testing the bards and finding them to be locked, he turned back to the group. "Anyone know how to pick locks?"

"If it's simple enough, I know the spell." Elanin declared, though her knowledge only earned her more stiff glares from Reyda. Stepping forward, she kneeled beside the lock, trying to recall her alteration lessons. Remembering the proper incantation, she set her hands on the lock, tapping into her depleting mana reserves to fuel the spell. A pink glow settled over the lock, and the simple mechanics clicked into place with ease with the appropriate guidance. The lock snapped open in less than a moment after Elanin finished her work, and though her brow beaded with sweat from so much spell casting, she turned with pride to the others.

"Great, grab anything valuable and let's go!" Ralof ordered, taking the others with him and setting off once more. Letting out an impatient "humph", Elanin ignored her hurt pride, muttering to herself as she picked up the scant pieces of gold.

"Barbarians, they simply don't recognize true skill..." She paused to grab a spell book within the mans pocket, even though she already knew the spell in question. Could be worth something regardless... Taking off down the narrow hallway after the group, she passed several locked cells, some of which still contained the rotting remains of their inhabitants. To think the Empire capable of such atrocities... Surely the Thalmor didn't know of this? Elves would never stand for such things. Catching up with the others, she followed down a narrow stairwell, coming into a room that smelled of mold, dust and decay. Rusty cages were scattered all about, and Elanin could only stare wide eyed in horror at the remains of the occupants. The more experienced soldiers simply ran ahead, heedless of the toothy grins on all sides.

A bashed in wall led through a windy natural passage, which was lit through burning torches on all sides. They had just about reached the end when Ralof motioned for them to stop, and the two other warriors immediately did as they were bid. She opened her mouth to question their halt, she was immediately silenced by a commotion from the next room.

"Our orders were to wait for General Tullius to arrive!"

"I'm not waiting to be killed by a dragon! We need to pull back!"

"Just give Tullius some time..."

Imperials, and a lot of them. Holding a position as well, meaning that they were expecting trouble, unlike the unprepared pairs they'd been running into so far. The thought made her blood run cold, but her companions kept their cool, planning an attack in hushed tones and speaking as if she was not even there.

"About three by the sound..." Ralof noted, standing closest to the door that opened to the next room. "Can't tell for sure with the echoes, but I'd say we're about even. Best chance is to rush them and rely on surprise." There were nods of consent from the other two veterans, but Elanin only stared forward with mute disbelief. They were going to attack? But what if they were outnumbered? What if-

"DOWN WITH THE EMPIRE!" The synchronized battle cry tore from the throats of the soldiers as they charged, eyes wild with the thrill of battle as they fell upon their foes. Elanin could only stumble after them, watching in open mouthed awe as they scattered and threw themselves on their terrified foes. She cast panicked glances around the cavern, which appeared to be a mix match of natural geography with man made installments thrown in. Stacked brick pillars stood side by side stalagmites, and a naturally made walkway above a small stream was made complete with a wooden bridge leading to the other side of the cavern. The small battle raged on the lowered section of the space, each soldier locked in combat with one of the threw imperial soldiers.

Stepping along the path, Elanin kept her eyes glued to the fray, guiding herself forward with her sense of touch. She had just reached the far side of the cavern when the Stormcloaks began to gain the upper hand, striking down one of the Imperials and teaming up on the remaining two. With a kind of fascination, she watched it all unfold, so focused on the frat she didn't even hear the two sets of footsteps gaining on her.

Criiiiik...

But she did hear the drawing of their bows, and reacted in just enough time to duck the hit. Dropping to the floor, she heard the flitting of the arrows whizzing past the same spot her skull had occupied not a moment before. Snapping to the source, she saw two imperial archers, each fitting another arrow for their next shot. For a moment, she thought herself done, until, from her vantage point on the floor, she saw what they were standing in. Oil! Spilled from the lamps above, no doubt. It was perfect, and she had only one shot to make it work. Tapping into what remained of her mana, Elanin willed a weak fire into existence, tossing it forward in a pathetically weak fireball.

The flame hit the oil pool as little more than a spark, but it ignited the liquid into a raging inferno. The flames engulfed the archers, swallowing them whole in a haze of heat so intense Elanin had to shield herself from the blast. The roar of the flames intermingled with the screams of unfathomable agony of the men as they roasted alive, and only lasted for a few moments as the fire greedily ate up its fuel. Only when she felt the air around her cool did Elanin dare to look up, uncovering her face and looking upon the destruction she had wreaked. The stone still smoked from the heat of the flames, and amidst the heated stone lay two charred bodies, their features now an indiscernible charred mass.

"Not bad..." A voice commented above her, and she lifted her head to see Ralof standing above her. He offered a hand, but she refused it, standing on her own power and looking over the damage.

"You two go on ahead." Reyda called up from the lower level. "We'll stay here and hold the position in case others come through."

"Very well, Talos guide you." Ralof called back to them, and the two others repeated the blessing. The exchange caught Elanin quite off guard. Wasn't Talos worship banned by the Empire? You could be fined for merely mentioning the false gods name, imprisoned if you were found guilty of worship. Knowing better than to point that little fact out, Elanin followed Ralof past the charred bodies, entering a stone tunnel that dead ended in a drawbridge.

"Let's see what this does..." Ralof commented, pulling down a lever adjacent to the bridge. His muscles tensed as he gave the rusted equipment a strong pull, the rusted metal grating as it slid backward. With a grunt, he managed to pull the mechanism back fully into place, and a loud "ca-chunk" sounded from within the walls. The bridge fell forward over the chasm, settling with a loud, rattling bang in the stones on the far side. Eager to move on, Elanin tested the boards with a one leg, settling her weight on the wood and finding it to hold steady. It was likely a fairly new addition to the fort, built to close off a choke point on case of invasion.

They both set off over the bridge, and quickly found themselves in a fully natural cavern, complete with a small waterfall and stream. Stepping down the small stairs, the last sign of any kind of man made intervention on the area, they heard yet another loud rumble. Elanin immediately recognized the familiar shaking, turning just in time to see yet another collapse. A boulder fell from the ceiling, smashing the once sturdy bridge to timbers as the tunnel was sealed off by other falling debris.

"Guess we won't be going back that way..." Ralof said, stating the obvious as he peered over the edge, whistling at the horse sized boulder laying amongst the smashed boards. "I guess we're lucky it didn't cone down on top of us. Never mind, better push on, the others will need to find another way out." Internally taking note of his willingness to abandon his comrades (but not questioning it) Elanin followed him, going by the natural stream. Sunlight filtered in through holes in the ceiling, and all she could do was stare at them longingly as they pushed down a downhill slope into a less spacious passage.

"Hmm... This doesn't go anywhere..." Ralof said as they found the stream dead ended, carving underneath the stone. Elanin rolled her eyes in growing annoyance at the mans habit of pointing out the obvious. He pointed down the side trail, speaking with a fair amount of certainty. "Guess we'd better try this way. I'll take the lead." Growing antsy in the confined spaces, Elanin was more than willing to let him lead, following behind at a steady pace. Crinkling her nose in disgust, she kept a clear distance from the walls as they got further on, as they appeared to be coated in spider webs. By all the gods, what could leave such colossal webbings? I certainly hope the cold keeps them at bay... Reality betrayed her hopes, and she could only shudder as the webs grew thicker in spite of the decreasing temperature.

"By all the gods, how are there spiders here?" She asked, half hoping for a genuine response and half venting her fears.

"Frostbites..." Ralof murmured, fair eyes scanning the tunnel as his hand went to his weapon. "Keep for wits about you..." Elanin scoffed as they began to descend, picking her way over rocks that looked strangely like bones...

"My wits? They are only spiders. What danger could-"

SCREEE! SCREEE!

The ear piercing shrieks stopped her dead as they stepped into yet another cavern, this one coated from top to bottom in webbing. Strands thicker than a mans arm dangled from the ceiling above, and glossy eggs sacs lay scattered amongst swaddled corpses and grimy bones. From every corner and crevice they leapt, eight hairy legs clinging to the walls and ceiling as they sized up their prey on all sides. Both were frozen in a primeval awe as the first charged, as large as dog, eight legs skittering at an unbelievable speed. Poisoned froth spattered from it's fanged mandibles, front two legs held aloft to pin it's victim.

Ralof reacted in time, swinging down his axe as the creature drew close and slicing off one of the creatures fat mandibles, sending ichor flowing from the gaping wound. The beast hissed and screeched in rage, but was silenced when Ralof finished it with a blow to the head, cracking it's exoskeleton and smashing it's pitiful excuse for a brain. Three came the aid of their fallen brother, screeching with rage as the Nord went to meet them head on, calling over his shoulder to a still frozen Elanin.

"Fight, elf! We didn't come all this way to be eaten by bugs!" The words brought her back to reality, and her will to survive managed to overpower her instinctive fear. With a shudder if disgust, she went to meet one of the devils head on, lopping off a front limb with one easy swipe. The spiders eight beady eyes bulged in pain and rage, and it made a clumsy lunge with it's dripping fangs. Following Ralofs earlier technique of just stabbing the head, she drove her blade forward, sliding it directly between the open mandibles and deep into the squishy insides. Black liquid gushed out, accompanied by an odor that nearly made her vomit with disgust. With a sickening sucking sound, she pulled the weapon from the lifeless corpse, gagging and turning to face the next.

Two more, twice the size of the others, let out warning screeches from above. Elanin tilted back her head, blood chilling the sight of the monsters in their slimy web tunnels. They were the leaders, no doubt, and were calculating the best way to move their hulking bodies down from the high ceiling. Knowing that they were already outnumbered, a stroke of insane genius struck her mind, and she dug her fist into the leather pouch at her side. Grabbing onto a magic potion, she uncapped the tiny blue bottle, pouring the sparse contents down her throat. The liquid, imbued with pure magica, sent a rush of mana through her veins. Using it all, she willed a powerful flame into being, propelling it upwards and striking a thick gob of webbing betwixt the arachnids. The gooey substance caught fire immediately, spreading across the ceiling as the spiders halted combat, squealing in alarm.

The flames, hungry for fuel, burned fast, catching the two hulking spiders in their tunnels. The beasts caught fire immediately, shrieking in agony as their furry bodies burned alive, burning ichor pouring down as the fire ate through their armored skin. It was a terrifyingly awful sight, and Elanin could only watch, wide eyed in frozen shock, heedless of the burning chunks of web that rained down on all sides or the smoke that was engulfing the room. Fortunately, Ralof, accustomed to such terrible things, grabbed her and yanked her down the side passage just as the fire reached the floor, engulfing the entire cavern and cooking the spiders within. They ran until they met the stream once more, splashing into the cold water and coughing to clear their lungs of the thick smoke. The fire glowed in the passage beside them, but it only licked at the bare stone walls, staying safely confined in the former den of the spiders.

"Nice... job, elf..." Ralof complimented amidst his coughs. "You... keep on surprising me..." Elanin, dazed from the smoke, only nodded dumbly. How many times had she stared death in the face now? She was losing count, likely not a good sign..."Best move on... There's a strong breeze, so we're close." The very idea of being close to any open space perked Elanin up. Elves were naturally claustrophobic creatures, and the stone was beginning to weigh upon her. They got moving once more, crossing a naturally carved bridge over the water and coming immediately across an abandoned cart beside the skeleton of it's owner. Ralof rooted through the cart, unquestioning of it's purpose or story, and seemed pleased when he found a weathered satchel of gold.

"Every little bit helps..." He commented, pocketing the find. He turned to continue on, but stopped cold, dropping into a crouch. Elanin could only watch in confusion, but a hushed whisper and a gesture explained his sudden actions. "There's a bear just ahead, see her?" Elanin crouched, following his gaze to see where he was gesturing to. A black bear lay sleeping in a ray of streaming sunlight, it's furry haunches rising and falling with each breath. The animal was fat, and the countless bones littering it's lair left little question as to why.

"She's probably hibernating, so she should stay asleep. Still, I don't really want to tangle with her now, hold on..." Ralof pushed ahead, unslinging the bow on his back and drawing an arrow. He drew the bow, taking a breath to steady himself, then let it fly. There was but a moment before the arrow hit it's mark, and the beast awoke only to die as the shot embedded in it's heart. Elanin would have been lying if she said she wasn't partially impressed. "There probably won't be any more, come on! The entrance should be just ahead." Not needing any further convincing, Elanin hurried ahead, uncaring of the gnawed bones that she scattered as she moved. The scent of fresh air was on the breeze, and it only spurred her on. Freedom, no matter the destination, was calling her.

One final curve in the path at last revealed a snow laden entrance, blinding white sunlight pouring through to obscure the view beyond. Uncaring of the potential dangers, she charged forward, leaving Ralof behind as she passed through the entrance and into the blinding light.


	4. Chapter 4

The blinding rush of late afternoon sunlight and cold mountain air over her skin was euphoric.

Though she was blinded by the light for a few moments, Elanin adjusted quickly, her vision returning and the view before her becoming clear. Snowy pine trees bordered her on all sides, and a winding path stretched down the mountain. She could only gasp in awe as her eyes wandered further, taking in the incredible and vast landscape before her. Mountains acted as the natural horizon line of her view, stretching high into the heavens with their cloud kissed peaks. A glistening lake lay in the shadow of the nearest mountain, bordered on all sides by lush green pine trees. It was enough to leave her at a loss for words. What she had been expecting was craggy peaks and gnarled plant life eternally encrusted with ice. Instead, here before her was a land that had embraced it's chilly climate and it's hard way of life, turning itself into a thing of beauty. She almost had to admit that maybe some of her preconceptions about the land had been wrong.

"Get down!"

That is until Ralof tackled her roughly to the earth, pinning her to the ground beside a massive boulder. Her face hit the damp earth with a painful thud, and she had to wrestle her head up to attempt a rightfully angry tirade.

Until a an ear splitting roar stopped her cold. From her vantage point, she could watch with horror filled eyes as the dragon passed overhead, leathery wings cracking the air as it flew. It did not notice them, going over at a speed unrivaled by any man or beast and angling upward. She and Ralof sat up, keeping cover behind the stone as they watched the creature turn towards a nearby mountain, flapping quickly and rising out of sight.

"Looks like he's gone for good this time." Ralof concluded as soon as the beast had vanished. Standing, he took a few steps down the path, letting Elanin pick her now muddied self up and keep pace. Dusting herself off as best she could, the elven maiden hurried after the Nord, keeping pace down the rather steep mountain trail. "No way to know whether anyone else made it out alive. But this place will be swarming with Imperials soon. We'd better clear out of here."

"Why? Are you wanted?" Elanin questioned, though she immediately went red faced at the obvious response to the question.

"I wasn't in line for the block by choice, elf." He responded with sarcasm, though he grew serious immediately afterwards. "You're just as much a criminal as me in the Empire's eyes now, just for wearing that armor. If they saw us now, they'd arrest us both again." Her eyes dropped down the the blood spattered armor, and a pulse of unnatural fear went through her blood. A criminal? Her? By the Eight, the very thought! Hunted by her own, no less, what would her father say?

"My sister Gerdur runs the mill in Riverwood, just an hour up the road. I'm sure she'd help us out." Ralof commented, not noticing her rather distraught state as he marched ahead. "You'd best stick with me, el-" He halted mid-sentence, catching himself and asking with as much politeness as he could. "I never did get your name, nor were we properly introduced. I am Ralof of Riverwood, as you seem to already know. Might I know your name?" He halted on the path, offering a hand to shake. Elanin only stared for a moment, them took his meaty palm into her rather dainty hand.

"Elanin, second born of house Tiani."

By the time the mill came into sight, Elanin was more exhausted than she had ever been or ever thought she could be. The knowledge that the journey was over did only a little to lift her spirits, as the stone and timber homes looked far from comfortable. Falling into step behind Ralof, she allowed the unfailing Nord to take the lead, as his pace had only quickened as they had gotten closer. A large, elevated guard post ran over the main road into town, though only two unwary guards watched from the protected position. Clearly not a town that sees many travelers...

"Looks like nobody here knows what's happened yet." Ralof noted, breaking their rather lengthy silence. "Come on, Gerdur's probably working in her lumber mill." He pushed on ahead, walking with the smoothness of familiarity. Elanin only wished she could feel such ease, as the eyes of the few townspeople weighed heavily upon her. High elves, and the elven people in general, were far from welcome in these lands, as she knew. The armor she was wearing didn't seem to help either, but at least none acted upon their apparent suspicions, letting them pass in peace. An old woman's bickering quickly caught her attention at the mention of a dragon, though a young man she assumed to be the son tried only to silence his "crazy" mother. They turned away from the main road, passing a smoking forge and turning on to a short, rickety bridge to the mill just off the river banks. The mill, a fairly large structure built of solid stone and thick timbers, was clearly in active operation. The wheel turned smooth and quick on the rapid current, and Elanin could see movement by the blades at the top. They moved on past a pile of trees ready for chopping, and Ralof cast his eyes about in searching. Elanin could only stare in fascination as the man in the mill lifted a hulking trunk onto his shoulders, muscles bulging as he shifted the load into the saw with ease.

They rounded the mill, and, looking up the path, Elanin saw a woman chopping wood. So absorbed was she in her work that she didn't even notice their approach, not until Ralof called in a cheerful tone.

"Gerdur!"

The woman halted mid swing, looking up from her task and dropping her axe with surprise. A beaming smile lit up her features, and she rushed forward without pause. Arms thrown wide, she enveloped Ralof in an embrace, responding with joy.

"Brother! Mara's mercy, it's good to see you!" She pulled back, and Elanin could only marvel at their similarities. Same fair skin, same blue eyes and blond, braided hair, even their hardy build was identical. She spoke with an equally Nordic accent, her tone tinged with worry as she ignored Elanin completely. "But is it safe for you to be here? We heard that Ulfric had been captured..."

"Gerdur..." Ralof soothed, long having grown used to such worry from his sibling. Gerdur ceased her questioning, but listened intently as he continued. "Gerdur, I'm fine. At least now I am." The last bit drew a look of alarm from the Nordic woman, and she began to question once more. Elanin, for one, was getting a little tired of being ignored so completely, but she allowed the conversation to continue for the time.

"Are you hurt? What's happened?" For the first time she noticed Elanin, turning to the elf with a look of confusion and surprise. "And who's this? One of your comrades?"

"This is Elanin." Ralof introduced for her, continuing on with a smile. "She's not a comrade yet, but she is a friend. I owe her my life, in fact." Elanin frowned strongly at the "yet", but no one seemed to notice as Ralof continued. "Is there somewhere we can talk? There's no telling when the news from Helgen will reach the Imperials..."

"Helgen?" Gerdur repeated, her voice laden with surprise. "Has something happened?" She caught herself, taking on a serious expression. "You're right. Follow me." Cupping one hand beside her mouth, she called up to the mill, struggling to be heard over the din of the saw. "Hod! Come here a minute! I need your help with something."

"What is it woman? A gruff voice called out as the gears went silent. A sweaty and wood chip coated man appeared on the edge, his face disgruntled as he continued. "Is Sven drunk on the job again?" Gerdur let out a sound of frustration, guiding them over to a broad tree stump as she called back once more.

"Hod. Just come here." There was a grumble from the man, but he quickly changed his tone once he caught sight of the new arrivals.

"Ralof! What are you doing here!" He shook his head, disappearing from view as he called out to them. "Ah, I'll be right down..." Elanin followed as Ralof settled on a huge stump beside the river, letting out a sigh of weariness as he did do. She was momentarily reminded of her own weariness, but didn't have time to dwell on it as a newcomer ran up to greet them. A little boy, likely having seen no more than his thirteenth winter, ran beside the largest, furriest dog Elanin had ever seen. The boys familiar blond hair and blue eyes left her little doubt of his family bonds even before he reached them.

"Uncle Ralof!" He cried, stopping just before his uncle and proceeding to babble faster than most could understand. "Can I see your axe? How many Imperials have you killed? Do you really know Ulfric Stormcloak?" A chastising hush from Gerdur silenced any further questioning from the boy.

"Hush, Frodnar. This is no time for your games." She pointed back the way the boy had come. "Go and watch the south road. Come find us if you see any Imperials coming." The little boy deflated, speaking with childish pleading.

"Aw, mama, I want to stay and talk with Uncle Ralof!" Ralof, for his part, seemed amused by the boys antics.

"Look at you, almost a grown man! Won't be long before you'll be joining the fight yourself." Frodnar puffed out his chest at the praise, quickly changing his tone about his previous assignment.

"That's right! Don't worry, Uncle Ralof, I won't let those soldiers sneak up on you!" At that, he turned heel and ran back to the road with his dog at his heels, passing Hod on the way. The exchange left Elanin thoroughly gobsmacked. Sending children to keep watch? Was life here really so short that you were grown as soon as you could walk? Clearly some of her preconceptions hadn't been so wrong after all... Having approached, Hod spoke directly to them, dusting off his palms as he did.

"Now Ralof, what's going on? You look pretty well done in." As if a switch had been flipped, Ralof let out a weary sigh, losing the vigor he had previously shown so strongly.

"I can't remember when I last slept..." Elanin narrowed her eyes, thinking back to everything that had taken place in the recent scope of her memory. She had been captured unaware with Ralof, so perhaps this explanation could be as enlightening for her as it was for the others. "Where to start? Well, the news you heard about Ulfric was true. The Imperials ambushed us at Darkwater crossing. Like they knew exactly where we'd be. That was... two days ago, now." The revelation made Elanin jump with surprise. Two days? That was how long she'd been out? Surely it had been no more than a few hours? On a subconscious whim, she touched the scar on the side of her temple, wincing at the memory. Any harder, and she likely would have died... "We stopped in Helgen this morning, and I thought it was all over. Imperials had us lined up to the headsman's block and ready to start chopping."

"The cowards!" Gerdur spat in rage, clenching her fists. The very memory made Elanin tense. The image of that simple stone block, stained red with the blood of countless individuals, would never leave her mind.

"They wouldn't dare give Ulfric a fair trial. Treason, for fighting for your own people! All of Skyrim would have seen the truth then." Ralof snarled, going off on a mild tangent. He continued after a moments pause, his tone growing rather hushed. "But then... out of nowhere... a dragon attacked..." His sisters eyes grew wide with terror, and there was not even a hint of doubt in her voice as she spoke.

"You don't mean a real, live..."

"I can hardly believe it myself, and I was there." Ralof continued, nodding. "As strange as it sounds, we'd be dead if not for that dragon. In the confusion, we managed to slip away." His voice became grieved, and he asked with reluctance. "Are we really the first to make it to Riverwood?" Gerdur nodded gravely.

"Nobody else has come up the south road today, as far as I know." Ralof sighed, but continued on, his head hanging in weariness.

"Good... Maybe we can lay up for a while. I hate to put your family in danger Gerdur, but..."

"Nonsense. You and your friend are welcome to stay here as long as you need to." She offered a hand to her brother, lifting him to his legs. "For now, let me show you to the house. It's getting late anyway, and you both look like you could use food and rest."

"If it isn't too much to ask." Ralof said, his tone grateful and weary. Gerdur only smiled at him, sending her husband off to gather their son and leading them back through the village.

"I told you my sister would help us out." Ralof proudly declared as they went, though Elanin was too eager herself for food to offer anything but a numb nod. Much had happened over the past few hours, and the thought of even a moments rest to absorb it all was welcome to her.

Even if it meant dining with barbarians.

The meal had consisted of a thick stew, vegetables, and a Nordic drink known only as mead. The food was tough, tasteless, unpleasant, and thoroughly underclass.

Yet she had inhaled it all.

Never before had Elanin been so hungry, and even the bloated ache in her stomach was well worth the relief. Gerdur cleared away the wooden dishes, setting them aside in a tub of water for scrubbing as she spoke with amusement.

"You two were certainly starved! Good thing Lucan got in a fresh shipment, I'll have to restock tomorrow." She turned back to them, addressing her son first. "But for now, Frodnar, clean up these dishes." The young Nord, who had been playing with the family dog on some furs by the hearth, immediately began to complain,

"But mamma-" Gerdur narrowed her icy blue eyes, and no further complaint issued from the boy, who immediately set to work. Elanin couldn't help but be impressed. She had little experience with children, but even she knew that they were not easy to tame.

"Now, let's get you two into some less conspicuous outfits. Hod? Give Ralof some of your work clothes, they should fit." She turned to Elanin, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully and speaking with less certainty. "I may have some clothes for you, Elanin, come with me." Though she doubted the woman's outfits would be anything like what she was accustomed to, Elanin followed, eager to be rid of her bloody and stinking armor. The house was just an L shaped, one room establishment so all they needed to do was round the corner to be out if sight of the men. Elanin looked about at the alien architecture, which appeared to consist of hand carved, well everything. From the fur rugs to the bed, everything appeared as though it was made personally, perhaps even several generations before.

"Here we are, old work dress..." Gerdur announced, pulling a rather wrinkled looking garment from a nearly bare wardrobe. "Should fit you fine, though it may be short." The Nordic woman spoke of their clear height difference. As, while the Altmer were far thinner than nords, they were also far taller, and Elanin had at least five inches on her. It was better than bloody armor, at least...

"If you'll just let me remove the cuirass." She said, used to undressing in the company of other women, though those had been paid servants. Though it took some work, she was able to remove the armor unaided and slip on the dress. Dropping the armor to the side, she took a moment to observe herself. The material was somewhat scratchy, but it fit well enough, though it was short as they had predicted. Her boots showed clearly beneath fabric, and Gerdur was quick to offer assurance.

"I can check in with Lucan tomorrow to see if he has anything more fitting. It should do you for the night, however." Elanin nodded, though she couldn't help but look over herself rather unhappily once more. The dress wasn't tight, but it was far from flattering, and showed her modest figure quite clearly. Perfect breeding without any perfect looks to show for it... Never mind it, Elanin... She scolded, following Gerdur to the warmth of the burning hearth. You can buy a whole new wardrobe once you get to Uncle's...

"Now if everything's settled, I'd like to get some rest. I've got an early morning tomorrow." Ralof announced, now wearing a faded leather work suit. Gerdur seemed surprised, but then concerned, approaching her brother and setting him on a chair beside the fire.

"Brother, are you sure? There will be Imperials everywhere by afternoon tomorrow, you should lay low-"

"I need to get out of here before they swarm the village, Gerdur. They'll search your home for sure, and I will not put you in further danger." Before his sister could interrupt, Ralof continued, not willing to hear any argument. "I'll need to search the surrounding area to see if anyone else escaped, and then I'll be going back to Windhelm. It's going to be a long journey." Gerdur bit her lip, taking a moment to respond as she gathered herself.

"I understand." She said gravely, her eyes going hard as she held back her emotion. Watching the ordeal silently, Elanin couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Was this how most siblings behaved to one another? With love and selflessness? It was a far cry from her relationship with her own brother... They had always fought, always competed, and now he was likely gorging himself on a feast paid for with coin that was rightfully hers...

"And what of you?" Gerdur asked suddenly, bringing attention back to Elanin and shocking her out of her thoughts. "Do you have anywhere else to go?" Brightening a little at the question, Elanin realized she now had a chance to explain her situation. At the very least, they could give her directions. One of them had to know how she could get to Solitude, at least...

"I'm looking for someone, actually." She explained, taking on a diplomatic air as she took a seat of her own by the fire. "My uncle, Telind Seanaami. He's a nobleman who resides in Solitude, the owner of an extensive mining company. Perhaps you've heard of him?" Much to her disappointment, none of them had an answer.

"Afraid I don't know much about the nobility around here or in Solitude." Ralof replied for all of them. "Solitude is quite a distance away regardless, at least a week at best. But you said you came from money, why are you looking for him?" Elanin, feeling quite deflated now despite the warm fire before her, answered with self pitying woe.

"My father died recently. As I am a woman and he died in Cyrodil, I was not allowed to inherit what was left for me in the Will. All of our wealth is with my elder brother now..." Much to her surprise, Ralof, as well as Gerdur, stiffened in anger.

"Typical Imperials, they think the only place for a woman is below a man." Gerdur spat, her eyes blazing. Taking a quick breath to stifle her anger, Gerdur redirected the conversation, her tone becoming thoughtful. "I'm afraid we can't help you get to Solitude. Hod and I are needed here, and Ralof would be arrested on sight." Her eyes brightened with inspiration, and Elanin hung on every word. "But, there is a carriage service in Whiterun. You could be there by nightfall tomorrow if you left in the morning."

"They're not cheap though, over three hundred Septims to make a journey to the Capitol." Hod interjected, earning a glare from Gerdur. He quickly caught himself and added in a far more positive tone. "But of course, we'd be happy to offer whatever we can." Elanin crinkled her brow as she processed the information, weighing her scant options. Beggars could not be choosers, after all, and she truly had no option but to trust these nords.

"If you believe it would work. I do not have any gold of my own to pay you back though..." Elanin said, rather woefully recalling the bag of coins that was no longer in her possession. Confiscated by the Imperials, most likely.

"Think nothing of it." Gerdur assured. "I owe you my brothers life. We may not have enough gold to pay the carriage, but we can get you started to Whiterun, and I'm sure you can find the money there." More work? Marvelous... "We've got some gold and supplies stored away, they're yours. You can leave in the morning with Ralof."

"If that's the case, we'd best be off to bed. Got to wake up early if we want to beat the Imperials." Ralof said, standing from his chair.

"You can have our bed, Ralof. Elanin, feel free to take Frodnars." Gerdur offered, halting any kind of objection from Ralof. "We've got plenty of furs to make something for ourselves. It's only for the night, after all." She took hold of her husbands arm, leading him toward the door. "Hod and I need to finish tending the livestock anyway. Go ahead and get settled while we're gone." The two then departed, letting in a quick blast of chilly air as they did so. Elanin shivered, her sensitive skin erupting in goosebumps at the breeze. Turning to the small bed that was to be hers, she approached tentatively, wrinkling her nose at what she saw. The "bed" was little more than a wooden base heaped with straw and assorted furs, none of which appeared the slightest bit clean. Still, she decided to test it, sitting down on the edge and finding it to be intensely lumpy. Better than the floor, at least...

She felt the prickling of watchful eyes on her side, and turned to see the Nord child staring at her with wide blue eyes. The moment she caught his gaze, the child didn't hesitate to babble out a question.

"Are you really a high elf?" He said, his tone one of awe. Elanin couldn't help but be taken aback. One of her hands went to brush her pointed ears, and she responded with a bit of biting sarcasm.

"Did the ears give me away?" The tone was lost on the boy, who only continued his prodding without pause.

"Papa says the high elves aren't very nice, that they use magic to make people do what they want. Can you use magic?"

"Well yes, but I-"

"Have you ever used it to order people around?"

"No, and I-"

"Is there a spell to make people invisible?"

"Yes. Now-"

"Can you make me invisible?"

"I'm not sure that-"

"Oh! Could you make the house invisible?"

"Frodnar! Leave the poor woman alone." Ralof cut in, saving Elanin from any more of the child's relentless prodding. "Elanin saved my life today, she deserves a rest." The somewhat teasing reminder shushed the boy, who then went back to playing with the half asleep dog by the hearth. Too tired to even bother with a thank you, Elanin flopped back on the lumpy excuse for a mattress. Struggling somewhat, she smoothed out the straw, working beneath the furs to find some semblance of comfort. Sleeping in such accommodations had become a fairly regular occurrence since she had left Cyrodil, but she couldn't recall one that had been this bad. Still, it was better than nothing, and she quickly felt the heaviness of deep sleep settling over her. It would only be a little longer, and then she would be back where she belonged. Wearing the finest clothes amongst the finest company, not surrounded by... by...

The sensation of something scurrying over her hand left little need to finish the thought.


	5. Chapter 5

'Come on then, Elanin. Rise and shine."

The message and a quick shake of her shoulders roused her to a grumbling consciousness. Opening her bleary eyes, Elanin took a moment to recognize her surroundings, letting herself lie in bed for what felt like only a few moments. Rubbing her sleep rimmed eyes, she sat up once she realized further sleep was out of the question, grunting at the crick that had formed in her back. Stretching, she looked about the room, finding Gerdur and herself to be the only occupants. The older woman stood near the hearth, tending a stone slab from which a rather enticing smell was being emitted. Catching her eye, the Nordic woman gave a friendly smile.

"Almost thought I'd have to flip you off the bed. The others have gone to fetch some supplies, so it's just us for the moment." Wrapping her hands in cloth, she pulled the stone slab from the fire. A large chop of meat lay sizzling in the center, and the scent was enough to draw out a growl from her stomach. Settling the meat on a plate, Gerdur turned back to her as she began to cut it. "Figured you could use a good breakfast. Nothing like a bit of venison to start the day." Nodding, Elanin ventured over, sitting on the chair opposite where Gerdur stood and allowing herself to be served a sizable portion. The meat was definitely deer, she recognized it as having eating it before at home, though she typically ate it well done. There was a beat of awkwardness as she began to cut in to her meal, though thankfully Gerdur brought up a new topic, moving over to a chair beside the fire.

"Ah, I just recalled. I packed you a bag for your trip." She pointed behind Elanin to a leather pack beside the door. "Some vittles, as well as all the gold we could spare. It should last you a few days, enough to get you started." Elanin could only nod dumbly, cutting off a few pieces of meat and eating then with civilized grace. The meat was tough, but she was hungry, so it went rather quickly. She was nearly finished when she felt the urge to ask a question.

"I... Do not mean to sound ungrateful..," She began, and Gerdur looked up from her spot beside the fire. "But why are you doing this. You take me into your home, provide for me, yet ask for nothing in return. Why?" An unreadable look passed over the woman's face, and she bowed her head with a small smile.

"I owe you my brothers life, Elanin. I will never be able to pay that back." She explained. Elanin was humbled, for one of the first times in her life, as well as somewhat awkward. She hadn't saved anyone, she had just fought her way out of the danger, killing anyone that got in her way. Speaking of which, meat didn't seem so appealing all of a sudden... Muscling past nausea, she politely pushed the rest of the dish away. The scent of cooked meat suddenly reminded her far too much of burning flesh. "It's very different in Skyrim. We are not a friendly people, but we are honorable."

The door opened suddenly behind them, and Ralof stepped in, clad in a suit of leather armor. He didn't seem at all surprised to see her up, and spoke almost casually.

"Got some supplies for the trip, and some new armor for you, Elanin." He said, tossing her a large pouch. Catching it with a bit of fumbling, Elanin looked inside, seeing the assorted pieces of leather armor in her own size. "Better than what you had yesterday, eh? These are sure to fit." Reaching in the bag, Elanin pulled out the cuirass, which jingled from the movement of it's numerous straps and fastenings. It was certainly well made, that she couldn't deny, and was clearly quite fresh.

"We asked Alvor to start them up last night." Gerdur explained. "Should be a weapon in their too." Reaching further in, Elanin pulled out an iron sword. Standing, she tested it's weight, and couldn't help but be surprised at how well it was balanced.

"Better get that armor on, I'll need to be heading out soon to beat the Imperials. I can guide you most of the way to Whiterun, only about an hours march from here." Ralof said, shouldering his own pack. "I'll wait for you at the edge of town, near the old bridge. Gerdur nodded, though her eyes softened as she watched her brother leave. There was a notable pause before she even appeared to remember Elanin was there.

"Well then, let's get this armor on you, shall we?" She said at last, and Elanin only nodded, emptying the rest of the sack and setting the pieces on the cleared table. "Put the boots on first, and I'll help you with the cuirass. I imagine you can get the bracers on yourself?" Being quite unfamiliar with such matters, she only did as she was told, slipping on the armored boots and removing her dress. The armor fit smoothly over her shoulders, and she was surprised to find the inside lined with a soft leather for comfortable use. Gerdur handled buckling the ones out of her reach, and Elanin was pleased to find that it fit her perfectly and allowed free movement even as it was tightened. Slipping on the bracers, she took a moment to look over herself as soon as the armor was on. It was well made, and her new sword fit perfectly into the latch on the side of her hip.

"Well, guess you're a real warrior now, eh?" Gerdur asked, stepping back to look her over. A warrior? Her? Out on my first adventure... She mused, her mind wandering to the stories of ancient heroines the servants had read to her in her youth. "That armor should do for now, I have a feeling you'll be needing it in Whiterun." She went quiet for a moment, and then opened the door for them, allowing the cool morning air to seep in. "We had best be off, Ralof is waiting." Nodding, Elanin put on her own pack, leading the way out the door.

A grey sky, still dotted with stars, stretched out above them. Cold fog hung over the village, cloaking the mountains above them in an effect that was as eerie as it was beautiful. Sounds were muffled by the fog, and all the other villagers appeared to have yet to rise, creating a silence that was almost crushing. Walking in time with Gerdur, Elanin became quite aware of the crunching of her boots on the dirt and the tap of her sword against her thigh. Blotting out the noise, she focused her mind on other things. Three hundred septims; something that had once been pocket change to her now seemed like an insurmountable obstacle. What kind of work could she do? Would anything even be available? Such uncertainty gnawed at her gut.

"When you get to Whiterun-" Gerdur broke the silence, sending a rattling shock through her. "You had best see the Jarl." The notion surprised Elanin, who looked to see that Gerdur's expression had become almost pleading. "Riverwood is defenseless, and we need reinforcements with that dragon around... I'm sure the information would be rewarded."

"I'll speak to him." Elanin promised, though she found it hard to believe that she'd be allowed to just walk in and speak to the man in charge. It might be worth her while though, so why not give it a shot? Gerdur seemed relieved to hear her answer, and the rest of the walk went in silence. Elanin busied herself by taking in the unexpected beauty of the early morning. She had always been somewhat of a morning bird, but even sunrise of the Imperial City paled in comparison to this simple village. A few birds trilled softly in the pines, and the river flowed lazily beside them, carrying fresh water do clear that salmon could be seen pushing against the current. It was the mountains that truly completed the image though, particularly the one on their right, which stretched like a vertical stone wall into the heavens. Just looking at it made her feel tiny.

"The Throat of the World." Gerdur remarked when she caught her looking at it. "The tallest mountain in Tamriel, and home to the Greybeards. Their monastery is at the very peak, you'll be able to see it in Whiterun." Elanin could only crane her neck upwards in awe. Living at the peak of a mountain, could there be anything else as lonely as that?

"There you two are!" Ralof announced from the end of the road, leaning casually against the solid stone bridge. "I was about to head off on my own." Gerdur only smiled softly in response as they closed the gap between them, though her grief was clear just beneath her icy blue eyes.

"Just getting Elanin ready to go." Gerdur said as they reached Ralof at last. The older woman looked down at the ground as she continued, sounding far older than she just had. "You'll be going to Windhelm then?"

"Aye." Ralof replied with a nod. "I'll take Elanin to Whiterun, and then I'm off. Got a long journey ahead." There was a beat of silence, and the two siblings embraced. Feeling somewhat awkward, Elanin averted her eyes from the display.

"Just come back safe, alright?" Gerdur muttered, her voice tight with emotion. Taking a quick breath, she turned to Elanin, offering her hand in a gesture of friendship that she somewhat reluctantly took. "Best of luck to you as well, Elanin. Be sure to let us know when you get to Solitude."

"I will." She promised, feeling that she truly meant it.

"Best be off then." Ralof announced, wanting to keep the farewells short. "Goodbye, sister." He nodded up the path, and Elanin took her place beside him, walking in step as they made their way across the bridge.

"Brother!" Gerdur called out once they had made it halfway. Turning, they saw the woman now wore a look of fiery determination. Thumping her fist against her chest, she proudly declared. "Freedom, or Sovengarde." Smiling with pride, Ralof returned the gesture, answering somewhat more solemnly.

"Freedom, or Sovengarde."

"And there it is, Whiterun. See it through the trees?"

The town was rather hard to miss; a sprawling, walled in city complete with a towering castle. Looking through the well placed gap in the trees, Elanin took a moment to observe. The city was bigger than she had expected, and even the castle was certainly impressive. Thin trails of blue smoke could be seen rising clear from the chimneys against the pale morning sky, a sign that the occupants were already awake and working. Continuing down the path, she decided to take the time to ask a few questions.

"Your sister told me to speak to the Jarl, I take it he can be found in that castle?" Her voice was elevated just a pitch above normal to be heard over the falls on their right. The churning water sent up a fine must that kept them cool, at least, though the weather was still fine.

"Aye, it's called Dragonsreach, supposedly they had a real dragon there once. Jarl Balgruf is the one you need to speak to, just tell them you have information on Helgen."

"They'll let me in just for that?" She asked, walking in step beside him. Ralof chuckled in amusement, something he appeared to do frequently around her.

"Skyrim isn't like the Empire, you don't need an appointment to see the person in charge." Elanin pondered this for a moment, and then moved on to her next question.

"And what about work? What all will be available?"

"Just about anything, really. There's always need for skilled blades around these parts."

"Become a mercenary? Is that what you mean?"

"Not exactly... Just look around town, run errands. Maybe try the Companions, if you want something steadier."

"Companions?"

"A guild of honored warriors, they offer their blades in return for gold."

"Ah, like the Fighters Guild?"

"Something like that, yes."

Elanin went silent, thinking over the information. So she had options, that was good. A quick check of her pack had allowed her to count put fifty septims in her possession, so that meant only two hundred and fifty to go...

The path took a sharp dive as they went on, and the trees began to clear. Looking around, Elanin began to notice a sharp change in the scenery. Strange mossy grasses and tough looking shrubs began to replace the trees and bushes, and once they reached the bottom of the path it became clear why. They had passed, in the short span of an hour, from mountains to open plains. An open bowl stretched out before them, with Whiterun sitting just at the edge. Though her vantage point wasn't a very good one, Elanin had a feeling that the plains would stretch on for some time.

"And here is where we part ways." Ralof declared when they reached a fork in the road. Elanin stopped her sightseeing, looking at the man with a touch of alarm. He gave her a reassuring smile, offering a hand to shake. "Just follow the road past the meadery, you can't miss the opening to the city. Been good knowing you, Elanin. Hope to see you in Windhelm sometime."

"Perhaps. It has been... nice meeting you, as well." Elanin replied somewhat lamely, shaking his hand. With a final smile and a nod, the man turned and left, setting off on the path opposite hers. In her heart, she almost felt a pinch of regret to see him go. He had saved her life, albeit indirectly, and proven himself honest enough. Still, it couldn't be helped that their paths sent them two different ways. Turning, she looked down her own path, taking a breath before she began to set down it.

A gentle stream flowed beside her, and a few farms lay at it's edge. The city was certainly impressive, with an imposing wall that was built for battle. A good ten minutes passed before the opening of the city came into sight, along with the stables. With the sight, however, came an all too familiar sound; the unmistakable clangs and roars of battle. Unable to restrain her curiosity, she increased her pace, going around the crumbling wall of a farm to see the source of the fray just ahead. Though the fight was still a ways ahead, she could clearly make out the aggressor, and her heart nearly skipped a beat.

A giant, well over twice the height of a grown man, stood in the center if the field. The beast was clad in a primitive array of furs and bones, and its gray skin was decorated with a frightening show of tattoos. Clad in one of it's oversized hands was a crude hammer fitted with a small boulder as a bludgeon. It was fighting not one, but three warriors, and it was winning. One was on the ground, knocked back by a powerful kick, and neither of the others could get close enough, lest they face a crushing blow. They need a distraction, she told herself. They're doomed otherwise. Moving in closer, she tapped into her now replenished mana reserves. Concentrating, she willed the energy into electricity, crackling it about her palms and forming into a concentrated bolt. Moving within fifty feet of the fray, she took shelter behind another low stone wall and took aim, extending her arm and holding her fire until she saw an opportunity. The beast held it's head still long enough to give a bellowing roar, and that was when she struck.

The bolt of electricity flew clear and true, striking the beast in the side of it's oversized skull. It's neck snapped back from the force of impact, it's trunk like legs staggering backward from the force of the hit as it brought it's free hand to the site of the hit. Elanin smiled in satisfaction at the perfect hit; there was no way the beast could recover from such a blow, and surely now the others could finish it off.

But of course, she was wrong.

Bellowing in rage, the giant turned it's face in the direction of the shot, the left side of it's face a blackened and sizzling mess. It set it's one good eye on her, and, raising it's hammer and ignoring it's previous quarry, it charged. Covering five of her strides with one its own, the giant closed the gap between them in no time, and Elanin had mere moments to react when it was upon her. Grunting out an unladylike curse, she leapt back just as the giant swung, it's massive hammer crushing the stone wall and sending bricks flying. The ground shook from the impact, knocking her off her feet and onto the dirt in a tumble. Fumbling, she managed to draw her blade, looking up to see the giant was already going for another blow, it's hammer held high. Tumbling as fast as she could, she managed to avoid being crushed as the hammer came down, creating a crater where she had been moments before. Going on instinct, she swung her blade at the giants exposed ankle, slashing it across the exposed flesh and leaving a deep gash. The pain made the entire leg buckle, and the giant when down on one knee, knocking her over and with a wild, glancing blow of it's fist and sending her blade flying.

Locking one beady eye on her, the giant lifted it's fist in preparation to crush her in her exposed position. The creature bellowed, then stopped as an arrow seemed to grow out of it's throat. Gurgling in surprise, it brought it's hand to the wound, dropping it's hammer with a ground shaking thud. Elanin could only stare in shock as she recovered from her near death experience as battle cries ripped through the air. Two of the warriors she had seen before charged, the female digging her blade deep into the giants thigh to force it to it's hands and knees, and the man swinging a hefty blade to lop off it's head as it fell. The two actions were perfectly synchronized, and Elanin was left in a daze by the speed of it all. Only the tremendous thud of the giants body against the soil shook her to reality, and she woke to see the tremendous, headless corpse sitting before her.

Chest heaving, she looked around for her blade, hoping it had not gone far. Struggling somewhat from shock, she attempted to rise, stopping when a hand was offered to her. Looking up, she saw a woman who was the picture of what she had imagined Skyrims citizens to be. Wild red hair draped her armored shoulders, and her face was decorated with semi vertical slashes of green war paint. Her armor was animal hide accented with iron that had been embellished with green stones, though the covering was so revealing one might have hesitated to call it armor. A bow was slung over her back amongst a quiver of iron arrows, likely the same that had saved her from being crushed by the giant. Within her other hand she held Elanin's previously missing blade. Regardless of her appearance, Elanin took the offered palm, unable to stop her eyes from widening with shock at the woman's strength as she was hauled to her feet.

"You handle yourself well." She commented, returning Elanin her sword. Still somewhat shaken, Elanin sheathed her blade, only half hearing what the other woman was saying. "You'd make a fine Shield-Sister."

"I... Shield-Sister?" Elanin repeated, quite confused. The woman only smiled; clearly this was not something she had to explain often.

"An outsider, eh? Never heard of the Companions?" She asked, and Elanin felt her memory spark at the name. Hadn't Ralof suggested them to her?

"I've... heard of you. You're like the Fighters Guild, yes?"

"It is an an order of warriors. We are brothers and sisters in honor, and we show up to solve problems." Her eyes flashed somewhat. "If the pay is good enough."

"I see... I was told to look for you, actually. How could I join?"

"It's not up to me. You must speak to Kodlak Whitemane, up in Jorrvaskr." The woman crossed her arms, looking at Elanin with eyes that were practically wolfish. Though she was in no danger, Elanin gulped under the weight of the gaze. "The old mans got a good sense for people, he can look into your eyes and see your worth. If you do go to him, good luck."

Without further words, the warrior left, her companions following wordlessly behind. Elanin watched them go, looking back down to the giants corpse as they left her line of sight. Before today, giants had existed only in stories. Though to be fair, the same could be said of dragons yesterday. Still, did she want to join a group who categorized giants as "problems"? Perhaps it would be best to see what her other options were first. Shouldering her pack, she started off again, coming to the stables in no time. Powerful black horses stood within the stalls, though her eyes settled on the carriage parked just outside. The driver was talking with the owner of the stables, likely casually, as he was leaning back in the drivers seat with the reigns gripped loosely in his hands. The open back of the carriage was stuffed with packs of provisions, but no other passengers could be seen. Just a little longer, Elanin. You'll be able to go soon. Walking a little further, she saw a camp of Khajiit just outside the first city gate. The cat people busied themselves with tending their camp, but one, clearly the oldest among them, did his best to get her attention as she went past. Used to such tactics from merchants in the Imperial City, Elanin only walked on, paying him no mind.

What an unusual design... She remarked as she passed through the gate, now finding herself on a rising cobbled path. Why would the gate not lead directly into the city? As she walked on, however, the answer became clear. Worn down stone walkways bordered the path on both sides, allowing guards to walk above and see anyone entering the city. A small but effective drawbridge near the final entrance allowed her to see clearly, the design was one of defense. Any invaders would be channeled through the highly exposed and narrow path, and would have to deal with the drawbridge as well. Such an attack would be suicide. Passing through the drawbridge, she found herself at the true gate to the city, and let out a small sigh of relief. Now she just needed to gain entry-

"Halt." A guard barked as she approached. With a pulse of alarm, Elanin did as she was told. "The city's closed with the dragons about. Official business only." Stopping, Elanin fumbled for a moment. Official? What qualified as official around here? Recalling Gerdur's request, she straightened somewhat.

"Riverwood calls for the Jarls aid." She said with as much strength and urgency as she could muster. If the guard caught her faint tremble, he said nothing of it.

"Riverwood's in danger, too? You'd better go on in. You'll find the Jarl in Dragonsreach, at the top of the hill." With that, he waved a signal to a guard at the wall above them, who nodded and pulled a lever. With the cranking of gears, the thick gate opened for her. Feeling a touch of pride, she stepped into the city. Her pace hitched as the gates shut behind her, and she let her eyes wander. Just before her was the blacksmith, where a burly man clad in Imperial armor was arguing with a woman as she tended her forge. Not bothering to listen in, Elanin looked to her left to see stairs that led to the next level of the small city. The guard had said at the top if the hill, though she couldn't see the hold from her current vantage point. Following her vague directions, she passed an inn and climbed up the weather beaten stairs, passing beneath a surprisingly well carved wooden arch as she did so. Emerging at the top, she found that Dragonsreach was now in her sight once more. Navigating through the streets, she passed through without drawing any attention, arriving, quite without intention, at what appeared to be the town square.

A thick and towering dead tree sat in the center of a small island, surrounded by tiny streams which ran through man made paths in the stone. Tilting her head at the odd sight, Elanin completely forgot it as she laid eyes on Dragonsreach once more, now towering above her at the top of a clear path. Ignoring the raving priest standing before a statue of Talos, she pushed up the stairs, unable to help being surprised by the water that flowed all around the steep walkway. While the flow was clearly controlled, she couldn't help but wonder why they pumped it through the city. Taking the steep steps two at a time, she quickly arrived at the top, and couldn't help but be awed at what she saw.

The path to the door was decorated by tall, imposing archways that towered above her, though they were nothing compared to the castle. Dragonsreach was not only massive, but decorated with clear Nordic taste, with carvings of stylized dragons accenting the roof. It was like nothing Elanin had ever seen, and she couldn't help but be a little humbled as she approached. The White Gold Tower may have been far taller, but it was not nearly as imposing, being almost elegant compared to this structure. Passing through the arches, she pushed open the heavy wooden doors, which swung without a sound on well oiled hinges. Stepping inside, she was once more awed.

The ceiling towered ahead in the biggest room she had ever seen, with wooden beams stretching higher than one might think possible to support their far off burden. Intricate carvings decorated the woodwork with rune like designs, and rich carpets lined the floor. Unable to keep her gaze lowered, Elanin stared with awe at the towering structure, keeping her neck craned even as she walked. A smoky haze floated about in the sun streaming in above, and it was only when she bumped into the stairs that Elanin remembered she was not there to sight see. Climbing the stairs, she found herself facing a massive open fire betwixt two long feasting tables. At the end of the room was the throne, seated between two yellow banners, and on it sat the man she presumed to be Jarl Balgruuf, who was clearly arguing with a man that appeared to be a steward. Going around the fire, she made her way forward, so intent on her goal that she didn't hear the unsheathing of blades. She was but a few steps away from the fire when an armed and angry dunmer stepped in her path, blocking her way forward. Red warpaint accented her fiery eyes, giving her a piercing glare.

"What is the meaning of this interruption?" She growled, blades held aloft in a defensive position. "Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving visitors." Taking a weary step back, Elanin raised her hands in a sign of submit. Clearly this woman had seen her fair share of battles, and would not be worth upsetting.

"G-Gerdur sent me." She explained, unable to choke the stammer from her voice. "Riverwood is in danger." The dunmer arched her brows in surprise, and though she didn't sheathe her blades, she did shift her demeanor.

"As housecarl, my duty is to deal with all dangers that threaten the Jarl or his people, so you have my attention. Now, explain yourself." Biting her lip, Elanin considered her response for a moment before saying carefully.

"I was told to give my message directly to the Jarl." She explained, knowing from experience that messages carried directly always stayed truest to their original intent. This did not sit well with the dunmer, however, who shifted back immediately to an aggressive stance.

"Whatever you have to say to the Jarl, you can say to me." She warned, red eyes narrowing suspiciously. "I'm starting to think-"

"It's alright, Irileth." A voice piped up from the throne. Elanin let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding when she saw it was the Jarl who had spoken. "I want to hear what she has to say." Without complaint, Irileth sheathed her blade, stepping aside and returning to her proper place at the left side of the Jarl. Swallowing to clear the lump in her throat, Elanin approached, making it halfway up the small flight of stairs before stopping at a respective distance.

"Now, what's this about Riverwood being in danger?" He asked, and Elanin relaxed somewhat. Dealing with other nobles was her area if expertise, after all, even if this man wasn't much of a noble beyond looking the part. He bore a circlet of gold imbued with gemstones and possessed clothes a cut above those she had seen among the commoners sure, but his complete lack of posture was what she expected from a ruling figure in Skyrim.

"A dragon destroyed Helgen. Gerdur is afraid Riverwood is next." Elanin explained, her words being greeted with expected shock from all but the Balgruuf.

"Gerdur... Owns the lumber mill, if I'm not mistaken. Pillar of the community. Not prone to flights of fancy..." The Jarl mused aloud, speaking to Elanin with a tone of restrained disbelief. "And you're sure Helgen was destroyed by a dragon? This wasn't some Stormcloak raid gone wrong?" Stifling the urge to roll her eyes, Elanin replied stiffly.

"I was there. I saw the dragon burn Helgen to the ground." Balgruuf only shook his head in disbelief, though there was clearly no doubt in his mind now.

"By Ysmir, Irileth was right!" He turned to the man he had been arguing with before. "What do you say now, Proventus? Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls? Against a dragon?"

"My lord..." Irileth cut in respectively. "We should send troops to Riverwood at once. It's in the most immediate danger, if that dragon is lurking in the mountains-"

"The Jarl of Falkreath will view that as a provocation!" Proventus snapped in. "He'll assume we're preparing to join Ulfrics side and attack him. We should not-"

"Enough!" Balgruuf roared, silencing any further argument before it could begin. "I'll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people! Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once."

"Yes, my Jarl." The dunmer said, bowing respectfully. Proventus let out a moody "humph".

"If you'll excuse me, I'll return to my duties." With that, the Imperial sulked off, leaving Elanin alone before the Jarl. The man heaved a sigh before returning his attention to her, sounding weary but grateful.

"Well done, you sought me out, on your own initiative. You've done Whiterun a service, and I won't forget it. Speak to Proventus about a reward, you deserve it." He sat back in his throne, looking her over for a moment before speaking once more. "Now... Is there anything else I can do for you?" Elanin cleared her throat, glad that she could finally get to what she had come here for.

"No, thank you. Thank you for your time though." With a nod and a polite bow, she excused herself from the mans presence, going off to speak with Proventus. A reward. Gold, hopefully, and a sizable amount at that. Perhaps this would not be so difficult after all? Stepping away from the throne, she moved after the Imperial, seeing that he was now in hushed talks with another Nord. Waiting until he had finished speaking, she approached, though the steward seemed to know her purpose before she even spoke.

"The Jarl sent you to me for a reward, I imagine?" He clipped, and and she halted in surprise. Nodding, she watched as the man let out a faint sigh, pulling a fat coin purse from his pocket. "Yes, he has an established protocol for these things... About a hundred septims should do." He tossed the bag to her, and it was with great satisfaction that she caught it and felt the weight. That much closer... "I assume you'll be going now?"

"Actually, I was wondering if you know how I could send a message to Solitude." She asked, hoping to perhaps message her uncle to give him time to prepare. Better that than just showing up on his doorstep, at least.

"Solitude? Do you have business there?" Proventus replied, raising a brow in minor interest.

"I'm trying to contact my uncle, he's a nobleman in the city." Elanin explained, not at all surprised by the way the mans eyes brightened at the revelation. Such people cared more for gold than people, after all.

"Really? Why, I should have realized, my lady. What is his name? I will hire the courier myself."

"Telind Seanaami, the owner of the HighBorn mining company."

Quite unexpectedly, the mans face fell.

"Oh, yes. I see..."

"Is... Something wrong?" Elanin asked, feeling rather confused.

"Well... Madame, it is my greatest displeasure to inform you-"

Her heart stopped cold.

"Sir Seanaami passed away last winter."


End file.
